


The Fearsome Drakes

by meyari



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Attempted Rape, Bad Decisions, Happy Ending, Multi, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-08
Updated: 2011-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-21 04:12:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 43,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meyari/pseuds/meyari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for my own prompt: <em>DCU, Dick Grayson/Tim Drake, The one where Dick's family was rich and Tim's family were the circus performers.</em>  When Dick convinced Bruce to take him to the circus for his nineteenth birthday, it led to them witnessing a pair of murders that changed not just Timothy Drake's life but Dick's as well.  The journey he went on after bringing Tim home took Dick places he never expected and proved to him that he was far more fragile than he'd thought as well as stronger than he knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fearsome Drakes

"This is what we needed," Dick said as he waved his cone of cotton candy around grandly. "Get away from everything and just relax."

"If you say so," Bruce replied so dryly that Dick turned to glare at him.

Instead of the irritated, brooding expression that Dick expected from the tone of voice, he was met by amused eyes and a little smile that almost was a smirk. No matter what tone of voice Bruce used (and whether he was telling himself that he actually wasn't enjoying himself or not) Dick could see that he was as happy to get away from their dual roles as high society idiots and secret crime fighters.

"I do say so," Dick declared with a cocky grin that made Bruce laugh. "Exactly what we needed. Pity we couldn't get Alfred to join us but oh well. Maybe next year. I know he'd enjoy seeing the Fearsome Drakes."

"I'm sure he would," Bruce said so seriously that Dick was tempted to elbow him.

Instead, he took a big bite of his cotton candy and led the way into the big top. Even though the Graysons were old money going way back to the old world, Dick had always thought that they would have been well suited to being circus performers. If things had gone slightly different a couple of generations ago, it could be Dick out there under the lights instead of Jack, Janet and Timothy Drake. Dick liked to think that his parents would have loved being circus performers. They certainly had been delighted by being competitive ballroom dancers.

"So why the circus?" Bruce asked as the clowns came out and a lion-taming act did their things in two of the three rings. "I thought you'd want to go see that new action movie instead."

"The Drakes, of course," Dick answered. "They're incredible. I was reading about the youngest, Timothy. He's apparently good enough that they're talking about training him for the Olympics. He's a little young for it currently, only thirteen, but in a couple of years he has a good chance of getting gold."

"Hmm."

Neither of them looked at the other. Dick wasn't about to stay that he wanted to study their performance for hints on how to be better on patrol. They'd gotten the whole secret conversations in public thing down before Dick turned ten, after his parents died and Bruce took him in as his ward. Discovering Bruce's secret life as Batman and eventually joining him as Robin had only improved their relationship. Let other people imply that there was something skeevy about Bruce's attention to Dick. He knew better. Bruce was his godfather, his unofficial uncle and his partner, as well as his best friend, even when they fought like cats and dogs.

Everyone stilled as the Fearsome Drakes came out. Jack was solid, his black and gold suit relatively unremarkable. On the other hand, Janet was so fierce in her silver and black suit that Dick was sure that she was the one they were named for. He could see her as a dragon. Still, it was quiet, still, slim Tim in his black and red suit that captured Dick's attention as they went up the ropes.

He flew like he was born to be in the air, the way Dick wished he could fly. Watching Tim Drake, Dick could believe in true flight. Tim was perfection; precision and emotion expressed through movements that made Dick want to cry they were so beautiful. Halfway through the show, Tim swung back to the side for his parent's big sequence. Dick was so wrapped up in the whole thing that he didn't notice anything wrong until Bruce's hand clamped down around his arm.

"The ropes," Bruce hissed in his Bat voice.

"What?" Dick gasped.

Dick spotted the man in the shadows around the base of the tower just a moment too late. As he screamed a warning that only Tim seemed to hear, Jack and Janet Drake swung out into the air and then fell from the sky like rocks instead of dragons. Bruce was already running across the ring, charging at the man who had cut the ropes.

The double thud of bodies was nearly drowned out by the screams of the crowds around Dick. People stampeded for the exits while Dick stood there staring up at Tim. Through it all, Tim stared down at his parents, clinging to the trapeze that would no longer allow him to fly through the air.

Dick abandoned his cotton candy and scaled the tower to Tim's side. He wasn't surprised to find Tim shaking like a leaf.

"Tim?" Dick asked.

"They're…" Tim's voice shook as badly as his body did. His eyes were blown out and glazed over from shock.

"I'm so sorry," Dick breathed as he pulled Tim into a rough hug. "I'm so sorry."

"Why?" Tim whispered into Dick's shoulder.

"I don't know," Dick said in a voice too dark for Robin but not quite dark enough for Batman. "But I'll find out. One way or the other, I'll find out."

+++++

There were so many things wrong with Tim's room in Wayne Manor that he found it hard to do anything other than sit on the bed as he mentally cataloged them. It was too large by sixty percent. The closet had as much space as his entire bunk back home. The room was entirely too quiet, though that extended to the entire Manor. As soon as Alfred had shown Tim to his room, Tim had opened the window in hopes of getting some sort of noise in the too-quiet room. All that came in was the sound of bird song and the wind. Tim desperately missed the bustle and noise of the circus.

The furnishings were too grand, though they were appropriately neat and logically organized. Tim's few belongings had fit easily into the closet and on overly large dresser drawer with enough space left over that it felt like he hadn't put anything into them at all. The colors were off, all natural wood-tones instead of the quiet cream of his parent's trailer walls.

Of course, the real problem was that every time Tim closed his eyes he saw his parents falling out of the sky with the bright lights of the big top highlighting every flailing limb. Tim shuddered, rubbing his face with both of his hands.

"Why am I here?" Tim whispered.

Dick had said that it was 'right'. Bruce hadn't said much of anything other than that Tim was welcome to stay as long as he liked. Even Alfred hadn't explained anything when he'd said that 'Master Bruce understands what you are going through, Master Tim'. Still, it was better than the circus filled with police and reporters, better than the lonely trailer that had been his parents, better than the life that he didn't think he could live anymore. Maybe. Or maybe it just distracted him from the image behind his eyes.

"Hey," Dick's voice called from the hallway along with a quick double knock on the door, "you get your stuff put away?"

He poked his head in to smile at Tim so brightly that Tim wondered if this was the same person as the one who had held him and then patiently guided him down to the ground, step by painful step. Rather than answer when Tim wasn't sure his voice would cooperate, he nodded.

"Great," Dick said. "Come on. I thought I'd show you around the Manor a little. I remember how huge and quiet it seems. I moved in when I was nine after my parents were murdered."

"What?"

The word came out without any intention on Tim's part. It sounded shocked, full of pain and so revealing of Tim's inner state that he flushed and looked down at his hands. They were clasped in his lap and the knuckles were white. As Dick came into the room and sat next to Tim, the sound of sneakers on plush carpet was added to the too-quiet room. It was followed by a sigh and then an arm wrapped around Tim's shoulders. Only then did Tim realize that he was shaking.

"My parents were murdered when I was nine," Dick said so quietly and sadly that Tim found himself leaning into Dick's side. "It's been ten years and I still miss them but not as much as in the beginning. They were ballroom dancers, competed in a bunch of contests. There was a big one where there was a huge prize. One of the other couples were deep in debt and they knew Mom and Dad would win. They weren't terribly bright so they hired this guy to kill my parents to get them out of the way right before they went on stage. I was watching from the sidelines. Bruce was in the audience. He was a friend of my family since he was a little boy."

Tim shuddered and allowed his arms to wrap around Dick's waist. There were two arms holding him now, as strong as his father's and twice as gentle as his mother ever had been. Dick smelled like expensive soap and cologne. He felt like a circus performer with solid muscle, which seemed out of place in a rich man's son.

"Bruce's parents were killed in front of him when he was nine," Dick continued while rubbing Tim's back gently. "They went out to see an opera and were shot by a guy named Joe Chill on their way home. Bruce didn't have any relatives and there was only Alfred to take care of him. When he saw what happened to me, he stepped in to make sure I came to stay with him, not that he really had to. He was my Godfather and my parents' will specified that I was supposed to go to him if something happened to them."

"Does this," Tim murmured into the nook of Dick's neck. It was warm and comforting.

"Yeah, he does," Dick agreed. "We both do, Tim. Neither of us could see what happened and not help. We know what you're going through because we lived through it with our own parents."

"Do the images in your head ever go away?" Tim asked more than a little desperately.

When he pulled back to meet Dick's eyes there was sympathy and understanding but no pity. Dick sighed and shrugged, making a rueful face. His face seemed to be made of rubber from all the expressions he could make or maybe Tim was stuck in one expression right now.

"For me, sort of," Dick said slowly. "I still dream about them and what happened but most of the time I know it's a dream. Bruce… Bruce still sees his parents behind his eyes I think, though he doesn't admit it very often. I think it's part of why he's so quiet."

"He's hearing the screams," Tim whispered.

Dick nodded and then clapped his hands on his thighs before standing up to offer a hand to Tim. There was something like hope in his eyes, along with expectation, excitement and that same sympathy-not-pity. After a second, Tim took Dick's hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

The hallway was quiet except that it wasn't. Dick filled the air with stories of the various rooms and paintings, telling stories of his childhood adventures and disasters as he led Tim downstairs. His hand stayed firmly wrapped around Tim's hand, as if he didn't care at all that they're both too old for holding hands, both boys, too far apart in age, too different from each other.

"Now this," Dick said as he finally let Tim's hand go so that he could fling open a set of grand double doors, "is what I really wanted you to see."

The room beyond stole any ability for Tim to hear Dick's excited explanations. There was something about hobbies and Olympics and reports and hope but Tim was staring at the trapeze set with its net underneath. It was a simple set, nothing more than a practice set, but it felt like heaven. Like hell. Like he could feel the lights on him and his parents were flailing and the crowd was screaming as they stampeded out of the big top.

Dick's arms enveloped him again, pulling him around so that Tim's face was buried in his neck. Tim clung and cried and shook as he let the memories flow over and through him. They consumed him whole, so that he was back at that moment, back in the tent as his parents died, except this time there was someone there holding him as it happened.

Eventually the flashback faded. Tim found himself sitting on the floor with Dick wrapped around him, almost literally. He was sitting in the circle of Dick's crossed legs and Dick was holding him securely while nuzzling Tim's hair.

"Sorry," Tim whispered. His voice came out so rough that he wondered if he'd been screaming or sobbing audibly as he relived the event.

"Don't be," Dick said, remorse filling his voice. "I should have realized that it was too soon."

"Why do you have all of this again?" Tim asked. He was so tired that this time when he turned to look he could see the parallel bars, the horse, the other gymnastics equipment along the other side of the room from the trapeze.

"Bruce and I dabble with gymnastics," Dick explained in just sheepish enough a tone of voice that Tim allowed himself to look at his face. Dick's blush made Tim smile for a moment. "I mean, we're not that serious about it but I loved it when I was little and well, we're both rich so it's not like we can't afford to if we want to. I… don't think I could ever get into ballroom dancing like my parents."

Tim nodded. He understood that at an almost genetic level as he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to climb up the ropes and fly again. Dick let him go and headed over to some rings. He kicked off his shoes and then pulled himself up. His arms weren't quite straight so he wobbled a bit. From his spot on the floor, Tim watched and then nodded thoughtfully.

"Straighten your arms," Tim said, watching as Dick adjusted his form minutely. "Little more. There. Better?"

"Yeah!" Dick said with that grin that filled the room with warmth and light. "Thanks!"

Tim's heart fluttered a little in a completely unfamiliar way as Dick worked through a simple routine and then did a flip to dismount. He wasn't that bad, for an amateur. With practice, he could be incredibly good, Tim thought and then wondered at that thought. Dick kept drawing him in, drawing him out of his shell. It was strange and new, as well as somewhat scary.

"You would have done well at the circus," Tim mused while Dick pulled his shoes back on.

"I always thought so," Dick said. "Little silly for the rich boy to run away to the circus, though."

Laughter startled Tim but he let it out anyway, in the hope that Dick would smile again. It worked better than Tim expected because Dick laughed the same way that he smiled, with joy and total abandon. When he offered his hand to Tim again, Tim took it much more readily.

"Want to get something to eat?" Dick asked. "I bet Alfred would be happy to make us some lunch."

"If it's not a problem," Tim said, a little worried about being a bother.

"Trust me, Alfred won't mind making a couple of sandwiches," Dick said so breezily that it might just be true.

His arm wrapped around Tim's shoulders again; pulling him close as they headed to the door. Tim let himself follow along in Dick's wake. The warmth and welcome he saw in Dick was more than he could resist even though the gulf of six years of age difference and totally different lives spread between them. Maybe it wouldn't matter. All the ways they were different didn't seem to matter to Dick and Tim found himself hoping that he could let it all go too. Having a home with people who loved him this freely was… enticing.

+++++

"We should tell him."

Dick wasn't surprised to get a ferocious glare from Batman. They were halfway across Gotham, tracking down the Joker's latest set of bombs. Even Dick knew that there were more important things to deal with than telling Tim about Batman and Robin, but somehow the whole subject weighed on his mind. In the two weeks since Tim had arrived at the manor Tim had been silent, still and had avoided the training room as if his life depended on it.

Telling him wouldn't fix Tim's grief or the PTSD that seemed to have made him afraid to even look at a trapeze but it might give him something else to live for now that he wasn't performing anymore.

"Focus, Robin."

Bruce's voice was fully in Batman territory so Dick let it go. He knew better than to have one of their arguments with this much on the line. Taking care of the bombs wasn't too hard, though Dick did end up with a big bruise on his chin from one of Joker's thug's roundhouses. When Tim saw it the next morning, he went pale.

Dick hated that expression so he grinned and shrugged. "She had a boyfriend who didn't appreciate my hitting on her."

Tim made a little squeaking noise that was accompanied by a tiny grin. The frightened, worried expression went away but Dick's uneasiness at the lie made his stomach clench around breakfast. Bruce's calm expression didn't help.

"He deserves to know."

This time Dick was hanging by his heels, bound and suspended over a yet another stupid trap while Batman battled to save him. He got a grunt in reply, counted that as Bruce actually listening to him since the rest of the fight had been completely silent on Bruce's part, and set to work squirming his way free.

By the time he was loose, Batman had defeated the thugs and was well on his way to disarming the bomb that would have blown Dick up provided he freed himself. Which he had. Of course, he was limping from a twisted ankle due to the ropes used to suspend him, but it wasn't that bad overall. Tim's reaction to Dick's limp was so worried and suspicious that Bruce was the one to offer the excuse this time.

"Once he heals up," Bruce said completely casually, "maybe you can help Dick with his uneven bars routine."

"I was fine!" Dick protested, taking up the lie with the ease of long practice between them. "I just… stumbled a little on the dismount, is all. I don't need help."

"I suppose I could see how he's doing," Tim said, his lips twitching with amusement at Dick's pouting. Given that he hadn't been in the training room the entire two months that he'd been at the Manor, Dick counted the lie as a victory, even as he wished that it wasn't necessary.

They started training on the uneven bars together, which only emphasized to Dick how lonely Tim was. It was the first time he did anything social since arriving at the Manor. Getting him into school was a help, but Tim's lack of knowledge about their double life still bothered Dick enormously. Every night when they left Tim in the Manor, Dick fretted about him and what he must think about their nightly disappearances.

"He can handle it."

"Robin…"

Bruce's sigh was entirely Bruce, not Batman. They were flying across town, four months into Tim's stay at the manor. It was a quiet night, one with rain pouring down and few criminals out causing trouble so finally having the conversation they'd been avoiding made sense to Dick. Unfortunately, Bruce didn't seem to feel the same way as he swung on to the next building instead of pausing with Dick.

"You know he can."

"It's dangerous."

"So's his not knowing. He's good, B. Really good. And really depressed. You know he needs something else to focus on."

Each sentence came with another flying swing across the gaps between buildings and each time they were answered by grunts or little sighs that Dick only heard because of their comms. It didn't matter after the last one though because they landed in the middle of a drug sale gone wrong and had to rescue one of Jason's street kids from getting beaten to death by gang bangers.

Getting the kid home took way too long. Dick took care of him while Bruce continued the patrol. By the time Dick made it back to the Manor, he was so soaked that he was sure his fingers were prunes inside of his gloves. His hair was still dripping once he got back upstairs. Tim, of course, caught him coming up the stairs while toweling his hair off.

"What were you doing out in the rain at this time of the morning?" Tim asked, his eyes taking in Dick's dry clothes and wet hair.

"Just got out of the shower actually," Dick said with a not quite casual shrug. "I sort of had insomnia last night so I went and practiced for a while. Think I got everything straightened up again if you're heading down."

"No, just breakfast," Tim said as he nodded towards the kitchen. "You getting some?"

"Probably should get some coffee if I don't want to fall asleep in the middle of the board meeting," Dick yawned.

Tim's expression was hard and suspicious, as though he truly didn't believe Dick's excuse but wasn't willing to say anything about it. Every day that went by after that got more and more tense. While Bruce seemed ready to keep lying to Tim indefinitely, Dick could see how the constant lies and excuses for their various absences and injuries were driving Tim away. The tiny smiles that used to grace Tim's lips disappeared. A hard, cold look often appeared in his eyes whenever he saw Dick and Bruce together. Even Alfred had a hard time winning any warmth from Tim by the six-month point.

The capper for Dick was finding Tim's belongings packed back into his duffle and tucked into a dark corner of his closet one night before patrol.

"He's going to run."

Bruce's head whipped around to stare at Dick as Dick stormed towards the computers. There were a million questions in his eyes but all it took was turning on the monitors inside of the manor to see Tim carefully, quietly, stealing food from the kitchen and tucking it away into a bag that would fit nicely into his duffle bag.

"Why?" Bruce asked.

"Why do you think?" Dick yelled at him. "Because we're lying to him and hiding something and he knows it! He's brilliant, B, as smart or smarter than you are. We can't keep lying to him. He deserves to know the truth. I swear, he'd be a better Robin that I am."

"Would he?"

Bruce's considering question made Dick pause. They'd talked a lot over the last couple of years about Dick taking on a new, more mature, identity. He'd been reluctant to do it as Batman had been paired with Robin for so long that the criminals tended to be much worse when Robin wasn't patrolling, but if Tim became Robin then Dick could become something, someone, else.

"Yeah," Dick said with a slow-blooming grin that made Bruce chuckle at him. "He would!"

They headed back upstairs to stop Tim before he could slip away. Rather than use the stairs and then hunt Tim through the Manor, they used the passage into the private quarters that opened into Bruce's bedroom. To his surprise, they came out of Bruce's bedroom to find Tim standing in the hallway and staring at them as if they'd just confirmed something horrible for him.

Tim turned and ran down the stairs while Dick's brain stuttered over what Tim could believe now. He went beet red at the sudden realization that Tim must think that Bruce and Dick were lovers. As soon as the thought occurred to him, Dick was running after Tim, using all his skills as Robin to catch up to him, though it took jumping down landings and then bouncing off of one wall to do it.

When he caught Tim by the arm he got a very competent fist to the gut, but Dick knew how to take that so he rolled with it and then pinned Tim against the wall. Tim glared at him, disgust in his eyes.

"No, no, no, _no,_ " Dick said with enough horror in his voice that Tim snorted. "No, just no. Fucking hell no. Oh my God, no. Noooooooooooo. No. No way, no how, not happening, I don't care what the reporters think. No. Not at all. Not ever. Not once. No."

"If you're not his lover," Tim snapped so viciously that Dick winced, "then what is it?"

"I'm Robin and he's Batman," Dick said. "That's what it is."

"Oh please."

The pure scorn in Tim's voice made Dick groan. He hauled Tim away from the wall and to the training room, which fortunately was only a dozen feet away after their run through the Manor. Once in the training room, Dick kicked off his shoes and pulled off his shirt. By the time Dick had run through a complicated series of kata, Tim had his arms crossed over his chest suspiciously. There was a hint of doubt in his eyes but he seemed determined to believe that Dick was Bruce's lover instead of his crime-fighting partner.

"I know you do martial arts, Dick," Tim said repressively.

"Granted." Dick said before spinning into a series of moves that he did on a regular basis as Robin.

That seemed to weaken the doubt but it was Bruce walking in with Dick's mask that made Tim gasp. Bruce had gone down to the cave and put on the suit, so that probably helped a lot more than just the mask. They sparred against each other for a long minute and a half; Tim had backed up so that he was leaning against the parallel bars with his heart in his eyes.

"You're really…"

"Yeah," Dick said with a shrug that wasn't half as casual as he wanted it to be. "I wanted to tell you two weeks after you arrived but B was stubborn."

"There was no reason to endanger you," Bruce said in his mid-range Batman voice, the one he used for scolding Catwoman and dealing with heroes from other cities.

"So why tell me now?" Tim asked.

Dick took off the mask and put it into Tim's hands. He could see Tim's pulse abruptly pounding at his temple and throat. From the way Tim held the mask, he thought it was more precious than gold or jewels. When Dick smiled gently at Tim, Tim first went pale and then bright red as he tried to give the mask back.

"Uh-uh," Dick said, pushing the mask back at Tim. "I've been thinking about a new identity for years but I didn't want to leave B here without a partner. I've kind of outgrown Robin and want to do something new. I think you'll be even better than me. You know, if you want to?"

He turned it into a question with a hopeful look and a tilt of his head that made Tim's ears start to blush along with his cheeks. Tim cradled the mask to his chest while staring at the floor for a long, entirely too silent moment. When he looked up there was determination and hope and belief shining in his eyes.

"Yes. Though I think I'll need some combat training."

"We'll make sure you get all the training you need, kiddo," Dick said with a grin that felt like it had split his face in half. "Probably not tonight as we kind of have to get out there. Two Face has teamed up with the Penguin and we're pretty sure that they're going to try some stupid plot tonight."

"Are there records of your history that I can review?" Tim asked, looking at Dick and then Bruce.

Bruce smiled that scary Bat smile that sent criminals running. "Come with us. There's a lot for you to see."

+++++

"Be careful, R."

Dick's voice in Tim's ear was cheerful enough that Tim smiled as he swung down to the street below. He'd only been patrolling as Robin for a few days, which meant he should be sticking with either Batman or Nightwing, but the crisis tonight was severe enough that he'd been given permission to act by himself. Still, it gave him a warm feeling to know that Nightwing, Dick, was worried about him. His crush on Dick still seemed to be a secret, thank goodness, so Tim contented himself with appreciating all the little gestures and touches that Dick gave him. Asking for more would be wrong.

Once on the street, Tim scanned for the bombs that should have been planted in the area. They had been in highly distinctive gaily wrapped packages everywhere else but there were no deadly presents anywhere on the street. Tim looked around a second time; unsure whether he'd gotten the wrong location or if someone had taken them away already. He really hoped that they hadn't been taken. There wasn't much time left to disarm the bombs before they went off.

"Haven't seen you in a while."

Tim started and whirled to stare as a drawling man's voice sounded from the darkness of the alleyway behind him. The man turned out to be a boy not too much older than Tim, with dark black hair and blue eyes that seemed to see straight through Tim.

"Ah… you really need to get out of here," Tim said.

"The fuck?" the boy snapped, straightening up and glaring at Tim as his hands clenched into fists. "Who the fuck are you and why are you wearing that suit? It's not your goddamn suit!"

"There's no time for that," Tim said a good bit more urgently. "You're in danger if you stay here. You need to leave."

"Hey, Jason!"

They both stared as Nightwing swung down from the rooftop and landed next to Tim. Jason stared at Nightwing, then at Tim in his Robin suit and then snorted as if he was disgusted by what he saw. Tim's shoulders automatically went tight at the presumed judgment against Tim's right to wear the Robin suit.

"Thought you didn't want other kids sucked into this life?" Jason said to Nightwing.

"Yeah, well, that was then and well, he's different," Dick said in such a breezy tone that Tim glared at him too.

"Another story you haven't had time to tell me yet?" Tim asked snappishly enough that Jason cackled and Dick winced. "I'm starting to think I need to do a great deal more research."

"Yeah, well, things have been busy," Dick said with just enough apology in his voice that Tim didn't hit him. "You know that. Find the bombs yet?"

"Bombs?" Jason gasped. "What fucking bombs?"

Half a dozen heads popped up out of the darkness, staring at Nightwing and Robin with the same horror that Jason's face held. He held up one fist and then pointed down the street. A small avalanche of street kids poured away from them. Most of the kinds looked as though they were younger than Tim. Some looked like they were truly kids, under ten or eleven years old. Jason growled and then turned to stride away, waving one hand at Tim and Dick.

"Good luck and next time mention the real problem before you start warning people away, Replacement," Jason drawled without looking back. "You'll get a better response."

He disappeared into the night, leaving Tim with his mouth gaping open and Dick chuckling ruefully. The bombs turned out to be a block away but between the two of them they managed to disarm them before anyone got hurt. Batman had already tracked down the Joker and returned him to Arkham so that was fine. By the time they all made it back to the Cave, Tim's curiosity was about to kill him.

There were extensive records on the street people that Batman and Robin worked with. Tim had read them all, learned the various names and personalities of those people so that he would be prepared for meeting them on patrol. Nowhere in those files was there a Jason who matched the young man that Tim had just met.

"Good job tonight, Tim," Dick said to Tim as he pulled off his new blue mask. "You still need to work on your Robin patter but the rest of the night went really well."

"Who exactly is Jason?" Tim asked even though he was glowing inside at the praise. It was amazing how easily Dick could make Tim glow with joy.

Bruce, Dick and Alfred all froze for a long moment. Alfred was the first one to move. He cleared his throat and passed Bruce a towel for the showers. The expression on Bruce's face suggested that he wanted to answer the question, possibly by telling Tim not to worry about it. On the other hand, Dick looked like he wanted to run away. On his way to the showers Bruce patted Dick's shoulder reassuringly.

"He's trouble?" Tim asked.

"He's… in that gray zone between ally and enemy," Dick sighed. "There was a time when Bruce and I considered bringing him in so that he could be Robin but…"

Dick sighed again, making that gesture that he always used for things so complicated that it would take forever to explain them and even then the explanation wouldn't make a lot of sense. It made Tim frown. He hadn't thought that anyone else had been considered for the role of Robin but Dick had said that he'd been thinking of a new identity for several years so it made sense that there would have been someone else.

"What does he do that puts him into the ally category?" Tim asked while taking off his mask.

"He passes us information, protects the street kids, keeps prostitutes from being beaten or raped," Dick said quite eagerly. "He's really good in a fight and he's backed both B and I up in the field several times. Heck, once he saved our lives while we were knocked out by one of Ivy's pollen attacks, got us out of the area and washed the pollen off."

"And what does he do that puts him into the enemy category?" Tim asked as he factored all of that in.

"He kills."

The bald statement made Tim stare. Dick's expression was so stark and full of grief that Tim had to wonder exactly who Jason had killed and why. It looked to Tim as though Dick's heart had been broken by the killing, possibly several times over.

"I want to read his file," Tim said quietly. "I don't like that I didn't know who he was before I encountered him."

"All right," Dick sighed. "Um, he's really not that bad of a guy, overall. He really does a good job taking care of the kids on the street, despite the illegal things that he gets involved with. I mean, the killing is what really put him beyond the pale, but there's a bunch of other stuff, like drugs and prostitution and a protection racket that comes very close to actually being a security company, other than people being hurt so bad that they end up in the hospital for months."

He called up Jason's file and let Tim settle in to read it. It was huge, covering years of observation and interaction. Tim thought that it approached the size of the Penguin's file. It was bigger than the one on the Scarecrow. All through the reports and pictures there was a thread of sorrow, as if Bruce, Dick and Alfred deeply regretted being unable to save Jason from the streets that appeared to have consumed his life.

The first step down the wrong path had been a man that Jason either may have allowed to fall to his death or possibly pushed. From the records, neither Bruce nor Dick was certain on that point. The second was a child rapist that Jason definitely arranged to die painfully, not that Tim could blame him given that several of the victims were younger than six years old. After that, there was a clear murder that Jason admitted to and from there it was a slow slide into a pattern of brutal murder of those Jason felt weren't worthy of living while viciously protecting those he cared about.

It took several days to read and absorb all the information. By the time he was done, Tim realized that he'd been at the Manor for one full year. The circus was back in town so Tim asked for and got permission to skip school so that he could visit his former friends and family. Dick volunteered to join him but Tim said no. He wanted to see his former family without his new family there, at least this one time.

It felt good to be home once Alfred dropped him off outside the circus. The tents were up and people were already filing in for the first Friday afternoon show. Tim smiled and breathed deep. He'd almost forgotten the smell of the circus, its peculiar mix of animals, popcorn and excitement.

"Tim!"

Pop Haley waved to him through the fence surrounding the circus, directing him towards the gate. Tim laughed and headed that way despite the dirty looks he got from some of the people waiting in line. Once he got to the head of the line he found Jason and a group of street kids looking like they'd just been given the bum's rush.

"Damn it, I didn't think it was that much for kid's tickets," Jason sighed as he looked at the ticket prices.

"Don't worry about it," Tim said. "Go ahead and let them in, Mary."

"Timmy!" Mary said, beaming at him. "Free Kid's Day?"

"If Pop will allow it?" Tim asked, looking at Pop who laughed and shrugged.

"Why not?" Pop said. "We'll have a Free Kid Day in honor of your visiting, Tim. It's so good to see you again!"

He pulled Tim into a fierce hug that Tim leaned into. Around them Jason's street kids cheered, though Jason was scowling when Tim turned to face him. The kids tugged at Jason to try and get him to go through the gate. Jason looked like he wanted to refuse the gift on principle.

"You still have to pay for your ticket, of course," Tim told Jason with a grin that was worthy of a carney or of Robin. "Only kids under twelve get to go in free on Free Kid Day."

"Oh, well that's fine then," Jason said. His voice was a bit gruff, as if he thought that Tim was trying to save face for him.

Behind the counter, Mary had pinned up a hastily written sign proclaiming that all children under twelve got in free today. The kids all cheered once Jason let them head inside. Tim caught Pop Haley's arm, leaning close to whisper in his ear.

"Let me know the count," Tim said. "I'll cover the lost income."

"You don't have to do that, Tim," Pop said, though he looked grateful for the offer.

"I know," Tim said with a little shrug that couldn't possibly convey what he was feeling. "I just… I don't think I could ever live this life again so… let me?"

Pop nodded and patted Tim's arm comfortingly before he was called off to deal with some problem among the games. Tim sighed and slowly walked through the circus. Elinore seemed to remember him, snuffling her trunk along his hair and then pulling him close so that she could wrap it around him in an elephant hug. He scratched that spot behind her ear that always made her rumble happily.

"Uh, should you be doing that?" Jason asked from behind Tim.

"I used to be with the circus," Tim explained without turning to look. "Elinore knows me."

"He knows the elephant!"

The little boy's voice was so full of hushed awe that Tim had to turn and grin. Jason was holding very firmly onto the six-year-old boy's hood as if he was afraid that the kid would bolt straight into trouble the instant Jason let go. His red hair and freckles were frankly adorable. The other kids were older, in the ten to twelve-year-old range, and they hung back behind Jason, watching Tim with enough suspicion in their eyes that it hurt a bit. No child should be that wary, not at the circus.

"Would you like to meet her?" Tim asked.

"Yes!" the kid squeaked so excitedly that Jason laughed.

"You have to be very still and let her touch you with her trunk," Tim explained. "Elinore has bad eyesight and she uses her trunk like a hand to figure out what she's dealing with."

"Oh boy!"

"Be good, Colin," Jason told him as he let go. "Don't spook the elephant. She might squish you."

Colin nodded so hard that he looked like his head might come off. When Tim gestured for Colin to come over, he quivered so hard that Tim patted his shoulder while gently directing Elinore's trunk towards Colin. Elinore snuffled at him, running the sensitive tip of her trunk over Colin's hair and plucking at it as if to see if it were edible. That made Colin's eyes screw shut but he gasped and stared as Elinore pulled him close too.

"Here," Tim said, helping Colin to sit on her trunk as Elinore scooped him up and held him up so that she could see him better. "She's curious about you. Most of the time she just pats people."

"Oh wow!" Colin whimpered, so excited that he was giggling under his breath.

"Scratch between her eyes," Tim directed.

Colin did and then squeaked as Elinore rumbled and sighed happily. That got the other kids to come close enough to gingerly pat Elinore's flanks and tree-trunk legs. When Elinore set Colin down he hugged her leg, getting another happy rumble and more tugging at his hair. Tim pulled him away and held Colin's hand until the other kids had let Elinore explore their hair and faces with their trunks. He could see some of the others, Samson, Wilhelm and Pedro, watching from the background but they trusted Tim to make sure that nothing bad happened.

"That was so cool," Colin breathed as Tim led the kids away, Jason pacing at his side like a watchful tiger.

"Would you like to see the lions and tigers?" Tim asked.

All the kids squealed at that, so Tim took them over and introduced them to Wilhelm who gave Tim a rough hug before introducing Gunther and Gurbel the tigers to the kids. He didn't let the kids touch but he did play a little with Gurbel who mouthed his arm, tail wagging in lazy joy. That led them to the games, where Tim told them which ones were easier to win and explained why. None of the kids had the money to try them but that wasn't a surprise for street kids. The show had already finished by that time, which made Colin whine and pout despite Jason gently knocking his knuckles against Colin's head.

"Why don't we go in anyway?" Tim offered.

"That allowed?" Jason asked, speaking up for the first time since Tim had let Colin meet Elinore.

"You're with me," Tim said so calmly that all the kids stared at him. "I was with the circus until last year this time. My… my parents were killed and I left, went to live with some friends."

"What did you do?" Colin asked as his hand tightened around Tim's. "Were you a clown?"

"No," Tim said. He led them into the big top, stopping in his tracks when he saw the trapeze and the new net underneath it. "I was an aerialist. My parents and I were the Fearsome Drakes. They were murdered by some men who wanted to use the circus to run drugs."

"Fuck!" Jason looked like he wanted to track down the men who'd done it and unleash his brand of justice on them.

"It's okay," Tim said, the pain at seeing the trapeze easing a little just from the sympathy in Jason and the kids' faces. "They've been brought to justice already. One died of a heart attack and the other is in prison for life."

Colin looked up at him, still clinging to Tim's hand as if it was a lifeline. Tim smiled down at him and led the way into the center of the first ring. Harry the clown was there, gathering up his supply of balloons. He beamed at Tim and promptly started blowing more animals for the gathered kids.

"You go up anymore?" Jason asked once Colin had gone to dance around Harry's feet to ask for a helmet and balloon sword.

"Some," Tim admitted quietly. "I still can't do the old routines we did together but… I do some flying now. Have been for the last few months."

"I wish we hadn't missed the show," Colin sighed once he had his sword and helmet. "That must be amazing."

"It is," Tim said.

Pop was talking with the new aerialists, nodding towards Tim, Jason and the kids. Most of the people who'd been his extended family were there. Tim patted Jason's shoulder, touched Colin's back, and then headed over to them.

"Do you think I could go up?" Tim asked. He managed to keep his voice calm and relatively steady but from the look in Pop's eyes he hadn't hidden the twin uneasiness and excitement filling him.

"Sure," Pop said. "Anything we can do to make it easier?"

"Um, no lights," Tim said, swallowing hard. "The lights… I don't think I could handle that."

He turned away before he could see either pity or sympathy in their eyes, heading back to pass his jacket to Colin and his shoes to Jason. Colin's eyes were as big as saucers, as were the other kids' eyes. Jason caught Tim's arm, keeping him from heading over to the ropes.

"You sure about this?" Jason asked. "You don't gotta do this for the kids, you know."

"It's not for them," Tim said with a wry smile that prompted Jason to let go of his arm with a surprised look on his face. "It's for me. I don't think… I could let go of the past if I don't go up again. There's a net. It'll be fine. My parents and I performed without a net, you see."

This time Jason let him go, a deep sort of understanding in his eyes. He held Tim's shoes like they were precious. The chalk felt like coming home. As he climbed the ropes up to the platform, Tim's heart pounded with so much more than excitement. He was afraid that he'd have a flashback when he looked down towards Jason, Colin and the other kids but the situation was so different that he didn't.

There were no cheering crowds this time. It wasn't his parents flying through the air and getting the rhythm of the trapeze settled. No lights to both blind and highlight him as he flew through the air. It was quiet and strangely perfect, like a practice session from years ago instead of that last, terrible performance.

Flying felt so different in the big top. In the training room it was intimate, tight in a way that forced Tim to focus on every second of what he was doing. There was no room for anything fancy there. When he flew out on the streets it was locomotion, not art, not joy, not life itself.

This was life, returned to Tim after a year spent away.

Tim fit himself into the other's routine, using simple moves that were so common as to be automatic for everyone. They let him do what he wanted so after a few minutes Tim asked for and got the stage. He worked back and forth for a bit, working up his nerve and then did a triple flip. Luke caught him perfectly, as if they'd practiced it a million times together. The tent erupted with cheers, most of them coming from Colin and Jason, though Tim could hear Pop's voice along with Joey the security guard and Pedro. Harry's undulating whistle made him laugh quietly.

"Going for a quad next?" Luke, the anchor, asked as they swung back across to the platform.

"No, I'm out of practice," Tim said as he landed on the platform.

The next time out Tim flipped lazily in the air and let himself drop into the net. He had to shut his eyes against the sudden image of his parents falling to their deaths but the net was there, just like the net at the Manor and Tim was fine. He bounced, stood and then walked to the edge where he flipped over the edge and landed on his feet.

"That was awesome!" Colin shouted. He ran over with Tim's jacket, followed by the other kids and Jason with Tim's shoes. "I wanna be in the circus!"

"Heh, doesn't work that way," Tim laughed. "Sorry Colin, but Pop can't take anyone in who doesn't carry their weight. The only reason I got to be part of the circus was that I was in the top act and my parents were performers."

"Oh," Colin sighed. He looked utterly crushed.

"It's a lot of work," Tim reassured him. "There's never a day off and you're always busy. School's almost impossible and you never get to have friends outside of the circus because you're always moving. The people are wonderful but… I don't think I could live this life anymore. Not without my parents."

Colin didn't seem to accept it but Jason obviously did. It showed in his eyes, his posture, the way he held himself as he offered Tim's shoes to him. As Jason gathered up his kids and headed for the exit, Tim went over to Pop and hugged him. That led to a tidal wave of hugs from all his old family, the people he'd grown up with and thought that he'd spend his life with.

"You are happy now, right?" Pop asked as they left the big top and emerged into the late afternoon sunshine. "They're taking good care of you?"

Tim laughed and nodded because Dick was at the gate, talking to Jason who seemed to know exactly who Dick was at night. The kids had bags of leftover popcorn, and Jason had a firm grip on Colin's hood so that he wouldn't run off and try and join the circus when they weren't looking.

"Yeah," Tim said as Dick spotted him and lit up like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. "I'm happy. And yes, they take very good care of me."

Pop chuckled, the knowing look in his eyes making Tim blush brightly. When Tim walked over to Dick, Dick immediately engulfed him in a hug. He could just see Jason's expression over Dick's shoulder. From the surprised look there, Jason now realized exactly who was wearing the Robin suit.

"You two know each other, I take it?" Jason asked, tugging Colin's hood to keep him from running off.

"Dick and Bruce were at the circus that night," Tim explained in a voice that was probably too quiet and pained, not that he could help that. "Dick was the one who got me down. I was… not doing well and had to be talked down, step by step."

"Surprised you didn't insist on coming along today," Jason said to Dick.

"He said he wanted to go alone," Dick said with a casual shrug that didn't look casual at all. He wrapped an arm around Tim's shoulders, tugging him close. "Whatever my little brother wants, he gets."

"I am _not_ your little brother, Dick," Tim said, disgust so clear in his voice that all the kids snickered.

Jason's lips twitched into a smirk that made Tim think that he knew about Tim's crush. Despite Dick's clowning groan of dismay, Tim smiled at Jason and shrugged slightly. That got a little laugh and a nod of understanding, as if Jason had been there and completely understood why Tim would be fascinated by Dick.

"We gotta get going or we won't catch the bus back home," Jason announced to general whines of dismay from the kids.

"No running away to join the circus, Colin," Tim said as he held out his arms for a hug that Colin immediately gave him. "You have to have a skill to be in the circus so you need to study hard and get good at something."

"Like being a clown or a magician or an animal trainer or something?" Colin asked with wide eyes and a hopeful expression.

"Exactly like that," Tim said. "And you have to get nice and strong. Cleaning up after Elinore is a lot of work."

Colin burst out laughing. He'd seen the piles of manure that Elinore left behind so hopefully he got that part of it. Jason caught Colin's hood and pulled him away, herding his kids back to the bus stop that would take them back to their regular lives. Tim wondered for a moment just how horrible those lives were, that Jason was their protector. Everything that he'd read said that Jason didn't protect the kids who had good parents or good homes. He only protected the abused kids, the street kids, the ones who had no hope, no life, no prospects other than the street and a life of petty crime.

"He really is a good guy, isn't he?" Tim murmured to Dick as they went to Dick's bike.

"Yeah," Dick sighed. "We… really had hope for him."

Tim nodded. As they rode away, Tim waved to Jason and the kids, laughing quietly when Colin bounced and waved so violently that he spilled some of his popcorn. They hadn't gotten off on the right foot but maybe things would be better in the future. He hoped so. Jason might not be a good person but he wasn't a bad one either, no matter whether he killed or not.

+++++

"Quiet night," Dick commented into his communicator.

It was a quiet night. They'd been out on patrol for several hours and had yet to find anything more significant than the odd mugging. Dick wasn't going to complaint about it. They'd had several weeks of utterly hectic nights so one good night was about due. That they'd probably have several more weeks of insanity after this was a totally different issue.

"Very."

Bruce sounded like he resented the lack of action tonight, which made Dick roll his eyes. Only Bruce. There was no answering comment from Tim. Dick paged through their communicator links, frowning when he realized that Tim must have turned his comm off entirely. It'd been a year since he started patrolling as Robin so it wasn't like Tim was incapable of taking care of himself but it was dangerous, even on a quiet night like this.

"Where's R?" Dick asked.

"Visiting Colin," Bruce said, amusement turning his voice from Batman's nearly into Brucie's voice.

"Man, that kid really captured R's heart, didn't he?" Dick laughed.

"Mm-hmm," Bruce murmured.

Dick headed across town towards Jason's territory. If Tim was checking up on Colin then he'd be talking to Jason tonight. Their friendship had grown ever since the day at the circus. It was no surprise to Dick that Jason had figured out the new Robin's identity pretty much immediately. Jason was quite bright, after all. The weird part was how close they'd become and how quickly. Tim never had explained how he and Jason had met, only saying that they'd been there for the circus, just like Tim.

It was nearing two in the morning when Dick made it there after several minor crimes averted, which meant that it was about time for the bars to close up so they'd be on drunk patrol soon. Jason was leaning against an alley wall, half in the shadows with one thumb hooked through his belt buckle. It was one of those 'used to be a street whore' poses that Dick knew Jason wasn't aware of. He looked like rough sex incarnate as he smiled fondly at Tim. Tim stood in front of him, his back to Dick. From the gestures Tim was making they were talking about some sort of fighting technique.

Jason laughed, the sound barely carrying across the street and up to Dick's ears, and reached out to catch Tim's wrist. He twisted Tim around and slung one arm around Tim's throat as if he was about to cut Tim's throat with a non-existent knife, all the while murmuring something in Tim's ear. Tim nodded slowly and then twisted like his spine was made of rubber as he snaked one foot behind Jason's knee. One second later, Jason was lying on his ass and grinning up at Tim who blushed and offered a hand to Jason.

"Thanks," Jason said as he took Tim's hand, not that Dick could hear the words with his ears but Jason's lips were perfectly clear as he spoke. "You're getting better at that."

Tim ducked his head the way he always did when he was praised. They stood there, entirely too close for Dick's comfort and where did that sudden discomfort come from anyway? After a second Jason leaned closer and whispered something in Tim's ear that made him go brilliantly red and squirm.

He didn't let go of Jason's hand.

Dick realized that he was holding his breath for the moment when Tim stepped back, moved away, gave some sign that he wasn't comfortable with the obviously sexual attention that Jason was giving him. It didn't come. Instead Tim smiled that tiny quirk of one corner of his mouth smile that always made Dick wish he was younger and not Tim's de facto brother, only it was directed at Jason instead of Dick.

"I'm jealous," Dick whispered in total shock.

"What?" Bruce asked.

"Nothing," Dick said. "Sorry."

As Dick stared, Tim pulled Jason into a hug that was anything but casual. The expression on Jason's face was sad, touched, and almost tender as he patted Tim's back. When they separated Dick stepped back into the shadows so that he wouldn't be seen. He almost expected to see Jason and Tim kiss but Tim just waved goodbye before firing his grappling line and heading back to the rooftops. Once Tim was out of sight Jason sighed and headed down the alley at a calm stroll that somehow looked lonely.

Jealous. He was jealous of Tim's friendship with Jason.

The thought was so heavy that Dick slid down the brick wall behind him and crouched with his head nearly between his knees. When had he gotten jealously protective of Tim? Sure, he wished Tim was a few years old, nineteen or twenty instead of just barely fifteen, but he'd been glad that Tim was making friends outside of school and the manor. His friend Steph was a great girl and Dick would be perfectly happy to see them date, except that he realized now that he hated the thought of it.

"Heading for Ninth," Tim said in his Robin voice. "There's a report of a bar fight spilling into the street."

"On my way," Bruce said which saved Dick from having to respond and join Tim.

He turned off his comm instead and sat there in the dark. A thousand and one moments played through his head, from the moment Dick watched Tim's parents die to helping him fly again to the day that Tim first wore the Robin costume and took to Gotham's skies. Day after day, helping Tim be stronger, to overcome the tragedy that had scarred his life. It seemed like everything in his life was centered on Tim and had been for a very long time.

"When did I fall in love?" Dick whispered as he tilted his head back and stared at the cloud-covered skies overhead.

There was no one moment that Dick could pinpoint, except those first few minutes where Tim flew through the air with his parents like he was born for the sky and not the earth. Every minute of every day since then had been filled with thoughts of Tim and making sure he was okay between his twin duties of being Dick Grayson and Nightwing.

No way was it appropriate, Dick thought. Tim was his little brother, not a potential lover. Six years difference wasn't a big deal when you were twenty and twenty-six but Tim was only fifteen and discovering that Dick was infatuated with him would be horrific for him. He couldn't let Tim know, couldn't show it. More importantly, he had to stop being so jealous of Tim's other friends.

A part of him snarled that a killer like Jason wasn't good enough for Tim but Dick knew himself well enough to know that was a lie. Jason wasn't just a killer. He'd gone down the wrong path, knew it, but simply didn't see a way back. It was more likely that Tim would bring him back to the right side than Jason would seduce Tim into his lifestyle.

Something blew up a few blocks away, signaling the end of the quiet night. Dick turned on his comm and headed for the explosion. It took until nearly four in the morning to get home which Dick took as a small blessing. By the time he drove back into the cave he was too tired to show how freaked out he was by his realization this evening. Better yet, Tim had already gone to bed.

"Dropped out of touch for a while," Bruce commented on his way to the elevator.

"Needed to think for a few minutes," Dick replied as he headed for the showers. "Sorry. Should have said something first."

Bruce nodded and patted Dick's shoulder in passing. That seemed to be the end of it but Dick knew that Bruce would say something if it happened again. He'd probably already had words with Tim about his comm 'failure'. The shower was hot enough that Dick felt like he was made of lead as he headed back to his room. Really, he just needed some sleep and everything would be all right.

Some sleep, a good breakfast and he'd be able to live next to Tim without letting his thoroughly inappropriate crush traumatize either of them.

Several months later Dick looked back at that thought with a huge level of derision. Every single day since then had been a struggle, not with Gotham's criminals but with his own emotions. He really wasn't sure what to do about the infatuation that he couldn't follow up on, other than attempt to get a bit of distance from Tim and Gotham.

Spending more time away from the Manor helped so Dick had taken to spending more and more time with the Titans. Kory liked that and her highly enthusiastic liaisons with him should have helped him forget about Tim. It didn't help. If anything, every time he was with Kory made things worse for him. Dick found himself comparing everyone around him to Tim. Even a few furtive encounters with Roy didn't help, especially when Roy asked who Dick was actually interested in afterwards.

There didn't seem to be anything else to do besides make the break more formal, so Dick sat down at breakfast and took a deep breath before admitting to what he'd been planning on doing for the last couple of weeks. He couldn't meet Tim's eyes as he announced his decision to move.

"You're… you're leaving Gotham?" Tim asked in a voice that shook like a leaf in the wind.

"Yeah," Dick said as cheerfully as he could with Bruce, Alfred and Tim staring at him in shock. "You've got things under control as Robin and the Titans could use more of my attention. I figured I'd move to New York and come back on weekends or as you guys needed me. I mean, you've turned out to be an even better Robin than I was so I think it's time. I think I can make a real difference for them."

Alfred's expression was a study in saying entirely disapproving things without words while Bruce's eyes looked like he was trying to bore straight through Dick's skull. As bad as they were, Tim's betrayed expression was a thousand times worse but Dick really didn't think that he could handle being here every day with Tim any longer. Something had to give and kissing his little brother until they fell in bed together wasn't going to be it.

"You will visit, right?" Tim asked, reaching out and grabbing Dick's hand in a move that was very unusual for him. It was more like something that Dick would have done.

"Of course!" Dick said with his biggest, brightest grin. "I know you guys would be lost if I wasn't here to make you crazy with the puns."

Bruce snorted, a little smile quirking his lips. He still looked entirely too intent but it had decreased a bit. Tim's little laugh was enough to ruin Dick's self-control. He pulled Tim into a hug and then gave him a gentle noogie that earned an elbow to the gut and Tim looking like his feathers had been ruffled. Dick wolfed his breakfast down so that he could escape the table without answering too many more questions.

"You have thought this through, Master Richard?" Alfred asked as Dick loaded up his bike's saddle bags with enough clothes for more than a week away.

"You only call me 'Master Richard' when you disapprove, Alfred," Dick sighed. "Come on, he is doing well enough to handle things without me. And the Titans do need me. You know that."

Alfred's sigh spoke volumes, as did his knowing look. "This is your home, dear boy," Alfred said gently. "You do not need to flee it."

"I'm not running away, Alfred," Dick protested as he put his helmet on and prepared to do exactly that. "I'm just… getting a little distance."

"Mind that you remember the way home then, Master Dick," Alfred replied. "You will always be welcome and, I dare say, dearly missed."

Dick swallowed hard against the surge of loss and worry that welled up. He nodded and closed his helmet's visor before waving to Alfred and Tim who was just coming down the stairs. Tim looked shocked to see Dick leaving so soon.

"Be back in a couple of days for some more stuff," Dick called. "Keep B out of trouble, Tim."

The road seemed to stretch forever in front of Dick as he drove out of the garage and away from the Manor. His plans notwithstanding, Dick was tempted to get on a random interstate and just drive until he ran out of gas. Running away seemed like a really good idea at the moment but Dick turned towards New York and revved the engine before letting his bike loose.

He refused to let himself think about Tim's expression in his rear view mirror as Dick drove away. Hopefully Alfred's hug would help him get over the pain that Dick had seen as he left. Either way, it didn't matter. Dick wouldn't take advantage of Tim no matter how far he had to run from his life and family.

+++++

"He just left?" Jason asked with shock naked on his face.

"Yeah," Tim sighed.

He'd met up with Jason and Colin at the Gotham Zoo, in one of his monthly efforts to get Colin not to run away to the circus until he was older. It seemed to be working so far, though Colin very obviously hadn't forgotten Elinore or Tim's performance on the trapeze. At the very least, it gave Tim a chance to talk to Jason who knew pretty much everything about Tim's secret life and understood his crush on Dick from the standpoint of having an identical crush of his own.

"Without a hug or anything?" Jason asked, much more intently this time.

"No, no hug at all," Tim replied. "He rode away right after breakfast. He's been acting strange for the past few months but this was… bizarre."

"Hasn't been back?"

"No, not yet," Tim said. "He hasn't even called."

He laughed as Colin came back over with three ice cream cones balanced carefully in his hands. The tip of Colin's tongue stuck out between his lips as he focused on not dropping their ice cream or tripping. Tim rescued his vanilla cone and Jason's chocolate, patting Colin's head fondly. They went and watched the monkeys, let Colin stare at the sleeping and possibly overheating polar bear and then went to the leopard's habitat to watch them snooze on their rock ledges. It was hot enough today that few of the animals were active.

"I like the bears," Colin said a few hours later as they left the circus and caught the bus across town to where Tim had parked his bike in one of Jason's secret hideouts. "They were really cool. Big and strong! Are there any bears at the circus, Tim?"

"Not at good circuses," Tim said. "Bears are hard to train and most circuses don't keep them. Big cats are much more trainable. And dogs."

"Huh," Colin said, swaying to the movement of the bus between Jason and Tim as he pondered that. "Do you think I could learn to train animals, Tim?"

"If you want to, yes," Tim said while trying not to grin at Colin's earnest expression. "You're smart enough that you can do whatever you want."

Colin sighed and leaned into Tim's side, absently picking at a bandage on his cheek. The orphanage he lived at wasn't a very good one but Jason kept a close eye on Colin and Tim had started making donations to the educational program there. It seemed to be helping, even though Colin clearly had very little confidence in his intelligence.

They dropped Colin off and then caught another bus to the much worse neighborhood where his bike was waiting. Jason stalked at Tim's side like he was ready to murder anyone who looked at them sideways. Tim did his best to be unobtrusive, a mere shadow on Jason's heels. It seemed to work because they made it to Jason's hidden garage without being challenged by the gang bangers or street workers they passed.

"They think you're my lover, you know," Jason commented once they were safely inside.

"I know," Tim said with a little shrug that it didn't bother him. "They see what they want to see, Jason. I don't mind."

He started to put on his helmet but stopped as Jason put a hand on his arm. There was something entirely too serious in his eyes, as well as a sort of longing which was entirely too familiar to Tim. Tim blinked, wondering what it could be. When Jason smiled that sad little smile he got whenever they talked about Dick, Tim's heart lurched. There was no way that Dick could have believed the rumors. From the look in Jason's eyes, he seemed to think that might be what the problem was.

"He wouldn't," Tim protested.

"It's Dick," Jason growled as he rolled his eyes. "He's really good at leaping to conclusions."

"But you were in love with him too!" Tim said, staring at Jason with his helmet halfway to his head. He dropped it to the seat of his bike with a thump.

"Yeah, but Dick never figured that one out," Jason snorted. "He's really good at missing some seriously obvious things, Tim. I swear living with B stunted his emotional growth."

Tim groaned and let his chin drop to his chest. It made sense of Dick's strange behavior the last few months, though why Dick would insist on cutting himself out of their lives because Tim supposedly fell in love with Jason made no sense at all. As soon as the thought ran through his head he gasped and turned to stare at the door.

"He's taking himself out of the equation," Tim murmured as he ran that concept through every possible permutation in his head. It made sense.

"Yeah?" Jason asked, one eyebrow raised curiously.

"Because he wants to be part of that equation," Tim continued. "But Dick thinks there's something wrong with that so he's… left, rather than have the discussion."

"Is he still calling you little brother?" Jason asked as if it was a foregone conclusion.

They both groaned at Tim's reluctant nod. From the expression on Jason's face, he was thinking about tracking Dick down and beating him up for being a complete idiot. Tim didn't blame him for that though he doubted that Jason actually would. His dedication to his territory was as total as Bruce's dedication to Gotham as a whole. Jason would never leave his kids unprotected long enough to go to New York, not even for a chance to pound some sense into Dick's head.

It was tempting to go and do it himself but knowing Dick he would simply run even further away and Tim doubted that he could actually manage to defeat Dick in combat. Tim shared an annoyed but understanding sigh with Jason and then put his helmet on. There was little to be done about it today and Tim did have homework to complete before he went out on patrol. Jason touched Tim's shoulder in a gesture so tentative that it made Tim stare at him.

"You going to talk to him?" Jason asked.

"…Maybe," Tim said after thinking about it for a moment. "I'm definitely going to tell Alfred, maybe Bruce. But… Dick… he'll just run if I confront him."

"Yeah, he would, the moron," Jason groaned. "Look, you need anything, you let me know, okay? I'll help however I can."

"I know," Tim said and smiled at Jason. "Thank you."

He could see that the offer included so much more than just advice and understanding of how Tim felt. If Tim hadn't fallen for Dick years ago, despite the massive inappropriateness stemming from their age difference, he thought he would have been very happy with Jason. Jason had said as much a couple of times since their day at the circus.

Still, neither of them were the sort to settle for second best. Jason had several lovers to hear him tell it, though Tim hadn't met any of them. Also, Tim wasn't willing to get into a relationship where they were both pining after someone else, even if they were both after the same person. It was better to keep it to friendship plus the occasional advice on how to deal with the crazy goings-on in Gotham.

Another month passed with no sign of Dick in Gotham. Alfred eventually made a pointed call to Dick that resulted in Dick coming back for a weekend and then running straight back to New York to hide. The Titans seemed to be doing well from the reports that Tim got through Bruce but Tim could tell that there were things that Bruce was leaving out. Several more months after Dick's brief return passed without a second visit, so Tim settled down at the computers and reviewed everything that had happened to Dick since his departure.

"What are you doing?" Bruce asked several hours later when they should have been getting ready for patrol.

"Catching up on what Dick's been doing," Tim said, frowning at the image on the screen. "Too many injuries, B. He's too distracted."

"I know," Bruce sighed.

Dick looked as though he'd lost weight in the most recent Tower surveillance footage, though he was smiling as brightly as ever. He had one arm around Kory's waist and the other around Roy's shoulders. Tim would have believed that they were just joking around if he couldn't see the way Dick was limping. No matter how brightly Dick smiled, it was obvious that he needed their support to walk.

"What is he doing?" Tim murmured.

"Patrol?" Bruce asked. The tone of his voice was completely matter of fact but the timing made Tim turn and look at him.

"What _is_ he doing, Bruce?" Tim asked. "Stop trying to hide it. I know he's attracted to me and resisting it because of the age difference, which is fine. We are too far apart in age. I completely understand that. He's doing something else stupid though, isn't he?"

Bruce sighed as he pulled the cowl over his face. "Dick called last night to suggest that you join the Titans in his place. He said something about wanting to work on cleaning up Bludhaven since New York was doing better with the Titans based there. He may also have mentioned that things are not going well between him and Kory and needing a little distance."

Tim groaned. From the pat on Tim's shoulder, Bruce agreed with Tim's assessment of Dick's relationship capabilities or lack thereof. Patrol that night went well, despite issues with Killer Crock, Poison Ivy and Catwoman in quick succession. Three days later Tim was being introduced to the Titans who were inducting a whole new set of younger heroes, including Wonder Girl, Superboy, Impulse and Tim as Robin. The gap left by Dick's departure seemed like a chasm that Tim could never fill, try as hard as he liked. The older heroes looked at him and seemed to see Dick, especially Roy and Kory.

"So you're like… Nightwing's younger brother?" Cassie asked a few weeks later after they'd finished their world-saving and collapsed in the media room together.

"I'm not his brother," Tim sighed as he explained it for what felt like the millionth time. "I was trained by Batman and Nightwing, yes, but we're not brothers in any way."

"Dude," Kon said while floating somewhere near the ceiling, "the others say that he calls you little brother all the time."

"I know," Tim said with a tiny shrug. "It started out as a joke. Nightwing used to be Robin and I was brought in to replace him when he decided to take a new identity. I think he can't let the joke go or something."

Impulse stared at him, speed eating his way through popcorn, two pizzas, several enchiladas and two bags of potato chips. "Why'd he leave?"

"Oh, I know that!" Cassie said with a bright, ever so faintly malicious grin. "He and Kory were dating and things went bad between them so Nightwing left instead of making everyone uncomfortable."

"He also wanted to work on cleaning up Bludhaven," Tim added. "That seems to be going all right."

It wasn't an outright lie. Dick was making a difference in Bludhaven from the reports that Tim gathered from the media, Oracle and Bruce, but it was the difference between truly horrific and terrible instead of bad and good. Tim watched over Dick's activities from a distance for the next few months, letting the older Titans know whenever Dick needed some support. They had links within the hero community that Tim lacked, which ensured that Dick wasn't completely alone as he tried to clean up his new home town, even if he did insist that he didn't need Batman, Robin or the Titan's assistance.

Still, it was hard to keep from showing his hurt when his sixteenth birthday passed without word or a single present from Dick. Tim thought that the others realized he was upset because Cassie gave him extra hugs and both Kon and Impulse went out of their way to try and cheer him up with a huge party and a hand-made cake. He thanked them, of course, but was terribly relieved when it was time to go back to Gotham. Finding Jason to talk to meant finding Colin who was eight now and growing like a weed.

"Tim!" Colin said, tackling Tim and hugging him tightly enough to make Tim breathless. "You were gone over the weekend so I couldn't say happy birthday so Happy Birthday!"

"Thank you, Colin," Tim said with a grin that made Colin beam at him. "I was visiting some friends in New York over the weekend."

"Everything okay?" Jason asked, ruffling Colin's hair and making him laugh.

"Mostly," Tim said with a little shrug. "I'd rather have spent my weekends here but they had a big party set up so I went there instead."

"Where there balloons?" Colin asked, bouncing a little though he hadn't let go of Tim yet.

"Balloons, confetti, streamers, party hats, really loud horns and some of the worst cake ever," Tim told them. "Seriously, they made the cake themselves and they _really_ shouldn't have. It was awful and I had to eat two pieces to make them happy. My stomach still hurts."

Colin laughed, as did Jason. They headed off to one of the little diners in the area where Colin regaled Tim with everything that had happened over the weekend while eating a ton of food, carefully leaving out the source of his latest set of bruises and scrapes. From the things he didn't say it was obvious that he'd gotten in another fight which explained why he was hanging out with Jason instead of being back at the orphanage.

It was a common pattern for Colin that Tim did his best to combat in quiet ways. Letting Colin treat him like an older brother was easy. Ensuring that he got proper therapy through the orphanage took creating a trust dedicated to ensuring disadvantaged children got the mental and physical care they needed. And simply listening to him seemed to do enough that Colin didn't cling when it was time for him to go back to the orphanage.

"He's doing all right," Jason commented once Colin was back where he belonged. "Better since he started getting that therapy."

"He needs it," Tim sighed. "So does Dick."

"Now what's he up to?" Jason asked in a tone that said he was expecting it to be utterly stupid and completely Dick.

"I'm not sure," Tim admitted, "but he's cut himself off from the Titans and he's been refusing to let any of the others help him out in Bludhaven. I'm afraid he's going to do something really stupid soon but he's not returning my calls and even Alfred can't get him to come home to visit. The last call I overheard he said something about too much going on to take the time but… it sounded more like he felt like he wasn't welcome for some reason."

"Damn it, I really am going to have to go beat him up, aren't I?" Jason grumbled.

He looked as worried as Tim felt, though they were entering Jason's territory and couldn't talk freely anymore. It was always strange walking through Jason's territory and seeing the way people looked at him. He truly had no issues with them assuming that they were together; after growing up in the circus it would be a little weird to object to being perceived as gay. However, he truly hated that they thought he was too weak to defend himself, that he needed Jason's protection. Still, it did serve a purpose for both Jason and Tim so he let it go despite his discomfort with their perceptions. Unfortunately, people's assumptions came back and bit him on the rear end when he got back to New York the next weekend.

"You're dating a mob boss?" Impulse asked the instant that Tim showed up at the Tower.

"Excuse me?" Tim asked, more than a little startled to find everyone waiting for him, Kory and Victor both with highly disapproving expressions. "Oh, Jason? No, we're not dating. He's a friend but that's it. I sort of help him watch out for Gotham's street kids when I'm in town."

"Dude, Impulse and I totally saw you two together on Monday night," Kon said in just huffy enough a tone that it was obvious he felt bad about spying on Tim. "You were all but holding hands."

"And I heard rumors about you too!" Impulse exclaimed as he vibrated in place. "Lots of them!"

Tim sighed and shook his head as he settled down to explain. Maybe Dick had actually left the Titans because they were nosy busybodies. Even as he thought it he knew it wasn't true. Whatever Dick was up to, it wasn't good or good for him. He was going to have to track Dick down somehow, once he was done explaining to the others just who Jason Todd was and why he wasn't truly a bad guy.

If that was possible, which Tim very privately thought it might not be. Explaining Jason Todd was nearly as impossible as explaining his relationship to Dick Grayson, such as it was.

+++++

There were crosshairs on his back.

Dick wouldn't have been surprised if there literally were but he knew that someone was targeting him. Too many people around him had been hurt or killed in the last few months. His first partner on the force had been in a hit and run on his way to back Dick up. They had to cut his corpse from his cheap little car after it had been smashed into by a concrete truck. The superintendent of his apartment building had been murdered in her shower two hours after she gave Dick some leftovers while asking for a date. The owner of the bar he'd been working at, several people he knew casually around town, the little girl who always let him pet her dog when they passed each other on the street; every single one of them had been murdered.

It could have been just the gangs in Bludhaven but people that he associated with as Nightwing were being targeted too. The cop that he'd been cultivating as a contact since his departure from the BPD had been killed while on duty. His contacts in the underworld had disappeared only to turn up dead days later. Everything he tried to figure out the source of this campaign to destroy his life (though he knew who it had to be) had been a failure, especially his efforts to get proof of it that would be admissible in court.

After several months of this Dick was so twitchy that he was barely sleeping. Catalina, Tarantula, was about the only person who hadn't been killed but her presence in his life brought its own set of problems. Her lack of understanding of the difference between right and wrong, especially in regards to killing, made him wonder how Tim could stand to be friends with Jason. If he could have, he would have thrown her out of Bludhaven but that wasn't likely to work. Bludhaven was her hometown far more than it was Dick's.

"At least _they're_ safe," Dick whispered as he collapsed on his couch.

There hadn't been any signs that the Titans were being targeted. While they'd had plenty of problems none of them had been this systematic or lethal. Bruce was fine. Alfred had made sure that Dick knew that the last time he called. Even Tim was okay; poor Tim whose birthday had come and gone without a present or call from Dick.

He hadn't dared send Tim anything. At this point he suspected that just knowing Dick would be enough to get him killed. If he showed any signs of how much he cared about Tim, Dick knew that it would result in Tim being targeted too. No matter how good Tim was, he couldn't watch his back constantly. Dick was just barely managing it and he had far more experience than Tim did. He'd have called the Justice League but he knew that Desmond, Blockbuster, had gotten kryptonite from Lex Luthor. Superman dying because of Dick was a horrific enough thought that ruled that out ages ago.

God, he was so tired!

Dick sighed and thought hard about staying in tonight instead of going out on patrol. Too little sleep, too much to do, not enough food had all contributed to make Dick feel like he was being weighed down. His body felt like it was made of lead and his eyes were scratchy with exhaustion, even though his mind wouldn't stop jittering through theories about which of the mob bosses was responsible for the campaign to destroy his life.

It was probably Blockbuster. It almost had to be. The other mob bosses in town had buckled under to his rule. Given how brutal Blockbuster was this whole situation made sense, though the extremes that it was being taken to didn't make sense. There was no reason for Blockbuster, or anyone else, to kill everyone in Dick's life.

He started as a siren wailed outside the window, realizing that it was half an hour later than he'd thought. Dick forced himself up off the couch and changed into Nightwing. Tired or not, people relied on his being out there, not in here sleeping. He'd sleep when he got home. Thank goodness for working the afternoon shift at the bar, Dick thought as he slipped out of the building and headed across town. He didn't have to be up before noon.

Bludhaven did its best to destroy him over the next several hours but Dick fought back as he always did. He stopped several murders, saved four women from rape, and got the police several bits of information that _should_ let them convict on two vital cases if they actually used the information properly. He spotted Tarantula in the distance several times but other than waving at him she didn't approach. Dick wasn't sure that was a good thing given her normal mode of operation but he was grateful for the reprieve.

Around four in the morning Dick headed back to his apartment, more or less satisfied with how the night had gone despite the buzz of exhaustion making it hard to focus on where he was and what he was doing. He was a block away from his apartment when an explosion lit up the early dawn. Dick froze and stared, heart going from steady to racing in less than a second.

"That's…"

He couldn't even say it. His apartment complex. It was his home that had been blown up. Dick found himself flying through the air, charging into the flames to try and rescue any of his neighbors despite the fire consuming the building. Sirens filled the night, growing ever closer. His little breathing mask cut the smoke well enough to get him to one apartment where Amygdala was crawling towards the door.

Dick grabbed his arm, transferred the breathing mask to Amygdala, and together they staggered to the window. Flames leaped around them, scorching Dick and burning Amygdala who tried to scream despite the breathing mask. Dick hauled at him, shoving him towards the window and blessing everything holy that Amygdala lived on the second floor and was tough enough to survive the initial explosion. They tumbled through the glass to the pavement below with Dick forcing them into a roll that propelled the two of them into one of the fire engines on the street beyond.

People shouted around them. Hands grasped at Dick, pulled him to his feet and then reached for Amygdala who predictably shouted and tried to bat them away. His fist left a huge dent in the side of the fire truck. Dick pulled free of the people helping him and caught Amygdala's arms, soothing him like a small child, like Colin in a rage. It took a while before he collapsed to his knees shaking and hugging himself.

"What's wrong with him?" one of the firemen asked.

"He's about as smart as an eight-year-old child," Dick sighed. "He needs… special handling."

Getting Amygdala bandaged and then off to the hospital for burn and smoke inhalation treatment took long enough that his former apartment complex was fully engulfed in flames. Dick looked at it while calling on every lesson Bruce had ever given him on acting. When he turned to the person in charge of the scene he hoped that he didn't look as though he'd lost his home and everyone he cared about.

"Were there any other survivors?" Dick asked and was surprised that his voice came out relatively calm.

"No, sorry," he sighed. "You got the only one out, Nightwing."

"Damn," Dick said around the lump in his throat. "It was… pretty advanced when I got here."

The firefighters looked sympathetic. Dick spotted Captain Rohrbach headed his way. Rather than talk to her when he knew he wouldn't be able to keep up the front he slipped away and headed for the rooftops. He knew that he should simply leave, to head for one of his tiny hideouts in the worst parts of town, but Dick hesitated and looked back at the embers of the life he'd built here in Bludhaven.

So many people dead, all because of him. Every single one of them had been a part of his life and all of them had died because he'd been there. He swallowed against the thought of a bomb like that hitting Wayne Manor. Bruce, Alfred, _Tim_ burned to a crisp because they knew Dick and cared about him.

"Sad."

Dick started and whirled to find Tarantula, Catalina, standing next to him with her gaze locked on the fire below. She looked as though she really meant it, not that he was ever completely sure of what she was thinking. After a moment she looked at Dick with that near-proprietary expression in her eyes again.

"You hurt?" Catalina asked as she ran her eyes over Dick.

"No, just tired," Dick said. "A little scorched around the edges. I'll live. I should go. I need to get some sleep."

She stared at him but let him leave without further comment. When he looked back a few blocks later she was still standing on the rooftop and watching the fire or maybe him. It was hard to tell at this time of the night when he was so tired and rattled. The urge to call home, to hear Alfred's voice, Bruce's, _Tim's,_ was overwhelming but after what had just happened he knew that it would be murder. If Dick contacted them in any way he would effectively be murdering his family.

A distant part of his mind tried to remind him that Bruce was Batman and Tim was Robin and Alfred was freaking Alfred Pennyworth, the man who managed the lot of them without breaking a sweat, but it was a very distant part with a very quiet voice. Most of his mind was taken up with the problem of how to stop this insanity without falling to Jason or Catalina's levels. At this point he'd almost be willing to commit murder to get a good night's sleep without the fear of someone dying while he slept. He thought he'd actually welcome being murdered. At least then he wouldn't be so exhausted.

Dick's already tense mood ratcheted several notches tighter as he swung closer to his primary hideout. Fire engine sirens filled the air and a thick column of black smoke spiraled lazily up into the pre-dawn skies. He could feel himself vibrating as he stood and looked down at the flaming ruin of a flop house that had housed his hideout in the long-forgotten attic bedroom.

"Why?" Dick whispered.

He could feel eyes on his back but when he turned to look no one was there. Paranoia had to be getting to him or maybe it was the sleep deprivation. The evidence in front of him made him think that no, he really wasn't paranoid. Someone was out to get him though he couldn't figure out why he was still alive.

Given how thorough his opponent (Blockbuster, it had to be Blockbuster. Who else could it be? Rolly would do this sort of thing and enjoy it) was about destroying his life (life? What life? He hadn't had a life since he'd left Gotham and turned his back on Tim, sweet Tim who looked up to him and needed him) it would have easy (peasy) to kill Dick (Dickie-bird, swinging through the air like he belonged to it when he should be on the ground, in the ground, with his parents).

Dick realized he'd been staring at the fire long enough for the first fire trucks to drive away. He shook his head and headed for his second hideout. It was more visible and harder to get in and out of without being seen, which was why he rarely used it. Hopefully this one would be secure because Dick absolutely had to rest before the crazy thoughts rampaging through his exhausted mind took over entirely.

To his great relief the building looked untouched. The sun was starting to shine between the gap along the horizon and the growing clouds overhead. He slipped into the top floor fire escape and carefully ghosted down the hallway. There was no sign that anyone had tampered with the lock on his apartment, not that it would be difficult to get into it. The door was cheap, hollow-core and so poorly hung that light shown around it.

Light.

There shouldn't be light coming from his hideout. The heartbeat that had been dropping abruptly spiked again. Dick eased the door open and slipped inside. Roland Desmond, Blockbuster, smirked at him from the center of his ancient couch.

"You," Dick said.

"Yes," Blockbuster replied with the nastiest smile that Dick had ever seen stretching his ugly face. "Me."

"Why?" Dick asked as he braced himself for the inevitable attack.

Blockbuster smirked at him thought the smirk was more of a snarl than anything close to amused. The look in his eyes was just this side of murderous. Dick's shoulders felt like they were made of solid steel. He was so exhausted but it didn't matter. This had to stop somehow.

"You ask why," Blockbuster said with an annoyed snort. He stood, his head brushing the ceiling so that he had to stoop a little bit. It felt like he filled the entire room with his bulk. To Dick's tired mind he filled the entire world, was bigger than the world. "You should ask what. What's happening? What's going to happen to you? What will keep on happening to you forever?"

"All right, what?" Dick asked warily.

"I'm tying up all the loose ends," Blockbuster answered with a truly evil grin. "I've figured you out, Nightwing, _Dick_. It doesn't matter what I do to you. It will never matter what happens to you. You're a hero, a true hero. You'll take whatever I dish out, maybe even enjoy it. But you can't handle someone else hurting because of you. So that's what I'm doing. I'm taking them all away from you. Now and forever, you're going to be alone, Dick. Anyone and everyone you care about will die, just because they matter to you. Everyone you care about is going to die. And you can't stop it because you. Won't. Kill. Me."

The unholy glee on Rolly's face made Dick stagger back a step. No. Just no. He couldn't accept this. There had to be something that he could do to stop this! Dick's hands were shaking even though he had them in a proper pose in case Rolly attacked. He didn't. All he did was grin at Dick like a death's mask brought to life and given the power to break Dick into tiny little bits.

Something inside Dick snapped at the realization that Blockbuster was right. It would go on and on and on forever. Blockbuster would kill everyone he cared about and even if Dick did manage to get him thrown in prison he'd break out and start the killing again. Dick threw himself at Blockbuster, kicking the mutated crime lord as hard as he could in face. It drove Blockbuster back but it didn't stop his hateful voice or the horrible things that Dick knew were coming his way.

Blockbuster laughed as Dick beat on him and drove him through the flimsy door of his hideout. "Yes! That's the secret, the one truth of your nature. You cannot deal with death coming to your 'loved' ones because of you."

He swung back, striking Dick hard enough to splinter the handrail on the stairs. They battled each other, Blockbuster laughing and spouting more venom while Dick did his best to beat Blockbuster to the point that the hateful voice stopped at last. Dick could feel bones breaking, a rib here, another there, but it didn't matter. Blockbuster was bleeding as bad as Dick was, always talking, lecturing, laughing at Dick's efforts to beat him up.

"Do you like being alone, Dick?" Blockbuster asked as they tumbled together to the landing a floor below. "I'll take out all the people you care about. Hell, even strangers on the street will die because you passed by. You won't be able to shake someone's hand without marking them for death. I'll make sure that you can't save any of them. Love one by loved one, innocent by innocent. It'll never stop. I'm _never_ going to stop! I can keep this up forever."

"No!" Dick bellowed.

He caught Blockbuster and flung him down the stairs. No matter what happened he couldn't let Blockbuster do it. Never to see Bruce, Alfred, Kory, Roy, _Tim_ again, he couldn't handle the thought of it. Dick leaped down the stairs, landing on top of Blockbuster and hammering his hateful face with everything that he had. All through it, Blockbuster laughed at him and fought back as though this was the best entertainment he'd ever had and he didn't want it to end too soon.

Dick's fist came down in the exact right way to drive splinters of Blockbuster's broken nose straight into his brain. Fatal blow. He shifted just enough so that it landed on the broad cheek instead. The next blow headed for a trachea strike but Dick instinctively moved the blow so that it landed elsewhere. Blow after blow, Dick had perfect opportunities to kill Blockbuster and didn't take them.

The part of his mind that wasn't consumed with rage and pure exhaustion realized that Blockbuster was right. Dick never would be rid of him. The death and loss would go on forever and because Dick wouldn't kill it would never, ever end. There was only one way to stop Blockbuster and Dick would never take it.

"You…" Dick panted, his hands gripping Blockbuster's collar instead of his throat. It should have been his throat. Dick knew he should strangle Blockbuster, Rolly, Desmond, but he couldn't do it.

"You see?" Blockbuster laughed. "You will never be rid of me!"

"Stand aside!" Tarantula said from several steps below. "Move and I will take care of it for you."

Dick started, staring past Blockbuster's bloody face at Catalina, Tarantula, at her gun which was pointed at Blockbuster's head. He was shaking. She was steady as a rock, her masked face filled with the sort of certainty that Dick remembered feeling once upon a time but no longer understood. To his surprise Blockbuster burst out laughing derisively.

"Fool, he would never allow you to take my life," Blockbuster told her. He didn't even try and get free from Dick's grip to face her. "Even the life of his worst enemy is more important to him than his own."

Blockbuster's laughter made Tarantula's lips go thin. Her eyes flicked to Dick and then back to Blockbuster. She clearly was willing to do what Dick couldn't, wouldn't. Dick's shaking increased to the point that he could barely keep his grip on Blockbuster's collar. It would never end as long as he let Blockbuster live but Dick couldn't kill him. He couldn't arrest him, he couldn't stop him, he couldn't reason with him. All he could do was let the people around him be killed one by one.

Faces flashed through his mind. When he reached Alfred, Bruce and Tim, Dick's grip gave way and Blockbuster stumbled backwards one step. Dick backed away too, impacting with the wall of the stairwell as that part of his mind that wasn't crippled by exhaustion and loss screamed at him to do something. He had to say something, tell Catalina, Tarantula to stop. Tarantula smiled at him before taking aim on Blockbuster whose expression shifted from smug and overconfident to shocked and ever so slightly afraid.

The shot echoed so loudly in the stairwell that it felt like Dick's ears had been blown out but no, he wasn't the one sliding down to the battered bare floor. Blood was splattered all over the walls, some of it splashing as far as Dick. He panted against the rising horror and acid burning his throat as nausea overwhelmed him. When he looked at his own hands all he could see was the blood coating them.

"No," Dick whimpered.

He turned away from Tarantula, from the inert bulk of Blockbuster's body and stumbled up the stairs and out onto the roof. There wasn't enough air in the stairwell, not that there was enough when he got outside. He couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't think. Dick collapsed into a heap by the fire escape, shaking so hard that his legs couldn't hold him. Since he had gotten here it had started to rain. Rain mingled with the wetness on his cheeks.

Bruce would never accept this. He couldn't go home, even though he was free from Blockbuster he couldn't look Bruce or Alfred or Tim in the eyes after having let a man be murdered in front of him. Catalina, he'd failed her too. How could he have let her do that when he'd been trying to guide her to the right side of the law?

"I failed you…" Dick whispered.

The face in his mind was Tim's, sweet, kind, cautious Tim who was the light of his life even when Dick couldn't be there by his side. Rain washed the blood on his hands away but more blood appeared to replace it. Dick felt like Lady Macbeth, forever haunted by the blood of his fallen. Pain filled him, not just his body but his soul. Every inch of his body hurt from the battles tonight, which made sense, but it was his heart that hurt the worst. Everything hurt so bad.

"Don't talk to yourself, querido," Catalina said as she knelt by his side and gently turned his face so that he'd face her. "Talk to me."

Dick looked at her. This time he felt the tears in his eyes as they worked their way past his mask. She had blood splattered on her face and arms, blood that had to have come from Roland. Shudders wracked his body again despite the gentle, almost loving, expression on her face.

"I failed you," Dick repeated. "I'm so sorry. I utterly failed you."

"Shhh," Catalina said, resting one finger on Dick's lips. "Do not worry, querido. You're safe now. He is gone and he can never hurt us again."

She leaned close and his brain seemed to skip a beat as she kissed him. Dick tasted blood on her lips and the sheer thought of what had happened made him shudder and pull away from Catalina. His reaction didn't seem to bother her at all. As blackness closed in around the edges of his vision Catalina pushed him around onto his ass, easily overpowering him by pressing on his many injuries. Even if he hadn't been hurt Dick thought faintly that she could have done it. He was so tired he couldn't think anymore.

"No," Dick moaned as she kissed him again. "Don't touch me."

He turned away and slowly slid towards the rooftop though he didn't feel himself hit it. The world went away on the way down, leaving Dick with the memory of that shot echoing in the stairwell and the blood that rained down all around him, staining the entire world red.

+++++

Six months. Dick had been gone for six months without a word other than three brief calls initiated by Alfred that Dick had cut off with only a few sentences spoken. It had been six months since he'd run away from the Titans and Kory, and even longer than that since he'd run away from Tim. If he weren't so worried about Dick, Tim thought that he might be utterly pissed off. Actually he knew he was pissed. He was just trying not to show it too badly.

"Hey," Jason said, surprise evident in his face and posture as Tim strode into one of his hideouts in the middle of what had to be a gang meeting from all the money and guns strewn about their ancient wobbly table. "What's up? Trouble?"

"Yes," Tim said with enough force that the other gang members stared at him instead of glaring at him for interrupting. "I need to talk to you. I officially don't see anything going on right now, so stop fingering that gun."

"Uh, sorry," one gang member who outweighed Jason by a good fifty pounds said with wide enough eyes that the carney in Tim grinned inwardly with satisfaction.

Tim nodded to him and then turned back to Jason who was watching him with a combination of worry and protectiveness that Tim truly didn't need at the moment. Well, he needed it. It just wasn't directed correctly yet. Something in Tim's expression or posture seemed to tell him what was going on.

"He still hasn't called?" Jason asked with enough annoyance that his gang members started checking their weapons as if they expected that they'd be called into battle any second.

"He's gone missing," Tim announced and refused to smile grimly as Jason went pale and the others froze in evident fear, either of his reaction or Jason's. Probably Jason's. "The last that anyone heard of him was two days ago when his apartment building was bombed."

"What?" Jason bolted to his feet which drove the others to their feet too.

Jason waved at them to tell them to stand down and came over to stand in front of Tim with his hands in his fists. Tim didn't reassure him physically, mostly because he was all but shaking with rage and worry at the moment. The others edged back a little bit, each of them quickly finishing checking their weapons before tucking them away on their persons.

"His building was bombed," Tim repeated. "His hideout was bombed. And then his second hideout went through a battle that left the door smashed open, the stairs nearly demolished and Blockbuster dead with a bullet through the head. There was a blood trail matching his type up to the roof but the rain washed all traces of where he was taken after that."

A couple of horrified whistles sounded behind Jason but Tim didn't look at them. Jason's face was a close mirror to his own emotions as he cycled through white-faced horror, intense worry and then a deep sort of rage that threatened to tear the entire world apart. Fortunately his back was turned to the others or Tim suspected that he would have entirely too much trouble on his hands. He wasn't sure of his own temper at the moment. Dealing with them plus Jason plus his own emotions would be too much for Tim's self-control.

"Fucking hell, he's been kidnapped?" Jason bellowed. "God damned moron! Why the hell couldn't he just fucking ask for help?"

"Practically every single person who knew him there has been killed," Tim explained and smiled grimly as Jason's rage cut off into shock. "I think that's why he hasn't been calling or visiting. He's afraid that he'll bring it down on us."

Jason's head tipped back so that he could shut his eyes and swear under his breath in the foulest language possible. Tim nodded his agreement even though Jason couldn't see it. It was constantly amazing the fixes that Dick got himself into, usually from his intense desire to protect everyone he cared about. This particular mess was the worst thing he'd seen yet, though.

"We heading out to find him, boss?" the biggest gang member asked as if it was a foregone conclusion.

"No, you're not," Tim told him and glared the man down as Jason stared at him. "He's not someone you can help. Officially I can't help him either."

"And your dad?" Jason asked as he slowly nodded and then smiled that particularly evil smile that left Tim with no doubt that Jason had no compunctions about killing whoever had taken Dick away. "What's he say about all of this?"

"I'm not sure," Tim said, Bruce and Alfred's reactions a very distant concern at the moment. "I left the information I gathered for him in a secure location. He should find it tomorrow sometime. By then I plan on having him home."

Tim met Jason's incredulous noise and the gang members shocked stares with an implacable glare of his own. One by one they all caved, looking away or shuffling their feet as they tried to escape his implicit wrath. Only Jason held his eyes, staring down at Tim with something close to a plea floating behind those bright blue eyes.

"You really intend to find him by yourself," Jason sighed.

"No, I intend to do it with you," Tim replied. "Your guys can't come along without sparking a full gang war. With Blockbuster dead Bludhaven's mob is in chaos. Bringing them in would imply that you're starting a turf war and I know you have no interest in doing that. If it's just the two of us then it's personal, something that I'm doing and you're coming along to keep me safe."

"He is way smarter than I thought, Boss," one of the men muttered. "Should put him in charge of our plans."

Jason snickered at that and shrugged as if it was to be expected. He started snapping orders at his men, sending them hustling out of the hideout on missions that Tim was relatively certain that he shouldn't know about and would find himself required to stop if he were in costume. In less than half an hour they were heading out onto the freeway and all but racing each other to get to Bludhaven on their bikes.

The weather worsened as they went south, switching from gloom and overcast to splatters of rain and the sort of cloud cover that threatened downpours at any second. Tim's Ducati was agile as he darted through traffic. Jason's Harley was big, loud and imposing but he moved just as quickly as Tim through the cars in their way.

Once there, they left their bikes in a relatively secure location, a mob garage where the attendant recognized Jason and slid his eyes straight past Tim as if he wasn't there. They headed out into the city, tracking the rumors of Blockbuster's death and Nightwing's disappearance. Everything seemed to tie back into the quasi-hero Tarantula. After the third mention of her as the most likely suspect in Blockbuster's death was closely tied to comments about how Blockbuster had put the hurt on Nightwing, Tim switched the focus of their questioning to where to find her.

"Look, she's dangerous," one of the mob members said when Jason asked. "Thinks she's some sort of hero but she kills like an assassin."

"I'm no hero," Jason snarled as he put his gun in the guy's face and put his finger on the trigger. "She's got info we need and we're going to fucking find her, one way or the other. You going to help us or you going to die?"

"You, he, she…" He looked at Tim who stared back at him so flatly that sweat broke out on his forehead. "She's got this guy, a total basket case. He's fucking nuts and she's trying to take care of him or some shit like that. Look, she's already killed three gang bangers that got too close to him. You don't want to tangle with her right now!"

"Where is she keeping him?" Tim asked in such a cold voice that the mob member went white and edged closer to Jason.

"Fucking hell, you're both nuts," he muttered and then shuddered as Jason pressed the gun against his forehead so hard that it drove his head back into the wall. "Fine, fine! They're at that crappy little Super 8 down by the waterfront, the one close to Baily Church. Everyone's staying away though. She's seriously killing anyone who gets too close."

Jason pulled the gun back and smirked. Between his smirk and Tim's grim smile the mob member shook in his boot. The instant that Tim nodded and Jason jerked his chin that he could leave, the guy bolted and ran without looking back. Tim took a deep breath and let it out slowly. At least he knew where Dick was now. All they had to do was get him back.

"You don't have to come along," Jason commented as they returned to their bikes for the cross-town ride.

"I'm a carney, Jason," Tim told him and then smiled grimly as Jason looked confused. "You never mess with carnies. We take care of our own. You might think that I've lived some sort of golden life up until my parents were killed but I didn't."

"Do tell," Jason drawled. "And how many people did you kill?"

"Personally, none," Tim replied so calmly that Jason actually stopped and stared at him. "But four different pedophiles in four different cities tried to molest me before I was ten, Jason. None of them got close enough to do anything but I'm reasonably certain that all of them are either crippled or dead. And… well, I helped beat up a couple of teens who tried to rape one of the girls but they apologized properly before it got serious. Carnival life isn't as bright and wonderful as it seems from the outside. We see the worst side of humanity as well as the best. Why do you think I work so hard to convince Colin he should stay in school and get a regular job?"

From the way Jason opened his mouth and then shut it, he hadn't expected that response. No one ever did which was why Tim never discussed it. If you weren't a carney you didn't understand what the life was like and attempts to explain both the good and the bad sides of it never went well. It was part of why he'd never asked Jason about his childhood and what it was like growing up on the streets. Tim knew that he could never fully understand it and making Jason attempt to explain the unexplainable benefited neither of them.

They rode in silence across town to the cheap little motel with its broken windows and dingy paint. One bike sat in the parking lot, as far as possible from the office and its sole occupant. Tim stayed with the bikes as Jason sauntered in to the office. There were a few shouts and one scream before Jason walked back out with the keys to the room they needed in his hand.

"He thinks she's out," Jason told Tim. "Her 'boy' is apparently inside. Not sure how much he's eaten or what condition he's in but the bastard in there was complaining about blood on the sheets."

White hot rage at Dick's disappearance was immediately subsumed under worry for Dick. They hurried to the unit, Jason taking the front with his gun out just in case Tarantula actually was there. It was a good thing that he had because a shot immediately rang out, punching a hole through the flimsy door next to Tim's head.

They charged as one, moving as if they'd teamed up a million times before. Despite his friendship with Jason and Colin, it was the first time Tim had actually gone into battle with him. Most of the time he warned Jason and his street kids away from danger rather than teaming up to fight it with him. He had half of a second to take in the room as he rolled and tumbled under Jason and Tarantula's mutual shoot off.

She was braced against the bathroom door, obviously guarding whoever was inside. There was blood staining the sheets though not as much as Tim had feared from Jason's words. Dick's Nightwing uniform lay crumpled in one corner with some rumpled street clothes. The cheap little bedside table had condoms mixed into the bandages.

"Drop it, bitch!" Jason snapped at her without firing.

"You will not take him!" Tarantula yelled back at him as she shot squeezed off a shot at Jason and missed badly.

"Dick!" Tim bellowed loudly enough to make both of them start.

There was an incoherent moan from the bathroom that made Tarantula's eyes go wide. She glanced over her shoulder, giving Tim enough time to roll and spring straight at her. He knocked the gun out of her hands, hit her as hard as he could in the solar plexus and then smashed her nose against his knee when she doubled over. Jason was cursing behind Tim, in an oddly reverent tone of voice that seemed entirely out of place. He ignored it in favor of smashing her head into the doorway hard enough to make blood spray.

"Easy," Jason said, catching Tim from behind and pulling him away from her before Tim could hit her head against the door again the way he wanted to.

Tarantula slid to the floor, moaning. It took Jason tugging Tim out of the way for him to realize that he was panting so hard that he was shaking with the force of the exhalations. As Jason pulled Tarantula out of the doorway, Tim stepped over her. The image of the bathroom engraved itself on his brain.

Dick was slumped in the tub, covered with bruises and bandages. His neck had several bruises that Tim registered through pounding rage as hickies. Most of his injuries were covered with bandages, some bloody, some fresh. It looked as though she'd been changing them when Jason and Tim came in. Tim thought that Dick was either three-quarters asleep or drugged out of his mind, though he might actually be as out of it as the mob member had implied. He barely reacted when Tim knelt by his side and checked his pupils.

"Don't touch him," Tarantula said. The words came out mushy because of her split lip and swelling face.

"He's my brother," Tim snapped at her. "We've been looking for him. You could have at least let us know he was alive!"

She started and stared at Tim, and then twisted to try and look at Jason despite the fact that he was kneeling over her back tying her wrists together. Tim dismissed her from his mind as he carefully checked Dick's skull. Nothing felt broken but his eyes were dilated so far that the blue was nearly subsumed by black so he had to have a concussion at the very least. The bandages wrapped around his ribs hinted at broken bones and bandages covered his hands to such a degree that Tim wondered if he'd split every knuckle.

"Dick, it's Tim," Tim murmured as he took over replacing Dick's remaining bloody bandages.

"No, not safe," Dick mumbled. He blinked and then started when Jason loomed over him. "Jason? Tim?"

"Yup," Jason said. "Tim hauled my ass out of Gotham to track you down. You even think of fighting us taking you home and I'll bounce you twice as hard as Tim bounced your girlfriend."

"What?" Dick asked.

His full body shudder at the word 'girlfriend' forced Tim to clamp down on his temper again. Those condoms in the other room and Tarantula's cursing from outside the bathroom mixed together into something that made Jason shuffle his feet nervously and Dick stare at Tim as if he was only just realizing that Tim truly was there.

"What did you do?" Dick asked.

"She…" Tim said and then had to stop because his voice came out Batman-dark. He cleared his throat and tried to force his voice into a less threatening tone. "I wouldn't let her keep you. She fought and I… stopped her."

"Broke most of the right side of her face against the door jamb," Jason commented with enough pride that Dick twisted and stared out the door.

"Whoa," Dick breathed.

He seemed more alert as Jason and Tim helped him out to the other room but he couldn't stand upright and his head obviously hurt from the way he cradled it in one hand. Dick groaned as he collapsed onto the bed with one arm wrapped around his ribs. Tarantula glared at both Jason and Tim, actively squirming to try and get free. She froze when Tim came over and knelt by her side.

"You killed Blockbuster," Tim said.

"You care about a monster like him?" Tarantula asked scornfully. "He was torturing us, torturing my Dick."

"He doesn't belong to you," Tim said in a low cold voice that sounded like it came from someone else. "Dick belongs to himself, not you. Never to you."

She tried to glare but he could see how she shivered. Jason cleared his throat behind Tim as he put a hand on Tim's shoulder. When Tim looked, Dick was sitting up and staring at him with wide eyes. Tim pushed that out of his mind and turned back to Tarantula. Whatever she saw in his eyes made her flinch.

"We're taking him home," Tim told her. "You will never touch him again."

"You cannot tell me what to do," Tarantula declared though her voice lacked conviction.

"You misunderstand," Tim said in the quiet voice that had gotten four men beaten at least half to death before he was eleven. "You will never have the opportunity to touch him again. I'll make sure of that."

Tim stood, dislodging Jason's hand in the process. The bruises on Tarantula's face made the right side puffy. From the rapid purpling her face was broken as well as bruised. She obviously couldn't see out of the right eye. Behind him, Tim heard Dick whisper his name. He pushed the anger away and went to help Dick get dressed. There were street clothes that were roughly Dick's size, so that helped. Once he had Dick standing, though leaning heavily on Tim's shoulder, he turned back to Jason.

"If you would be so kind as to take care of her," Tim said in a precise tone that he recognized as coming from Alfred at his most precise and covertly angry, "I'd appreciate it."

"Your way or mine?" Jason asked. They both ignored Dick's murmured protest.

"Whichever you choose, Jason," Tim said. "I'd say the carney way but I've already taken care of that. Kill her or turn her into the police as Blockbuster's murderer at your discretion. Do call and let me know when you get back home. I'll come searching for you if you don't."

"Don't worry, Baby Bird," Jason laughed. "I don't want you on my tail, not after today. You're fucking scary when you get going."

Tim smiled for real at that and propelled Dick out of the motel room. Despite the shooting there wasn't a single police car or even a siren in the area. He got Dick onto the back of his Ducati and started it up. Dick wrapped his arms around Tim's waist as if he was a little afraid to get that close. His arms tightened when Tim patted Dick's hands.

"You changed," Dick murmured into Tim's ear as they headed out onto the street and waited at the light.

"No, you've just never really seen me," Tim replied. "Hang on. We're going home, Dick."

"I…"

"We're going home," Tim repeated in that implacable voice. "Whatever happens after that happens but for now you need to heal up and you're doing it at home."

Dick sighed and rested his head on Tim's shoulder. The light changed and Tim gunned his engine. Home. Whatever had happened to Dick, whatever Blockbuster and Tarantula had done to him, it would be better once they got back home to the Manor.

Tim just hoped that everything that Dick had endured hadn't hurt him so badly that he ran away yet again.

+++++

Tim was walking down the stairs towards the kitchen.

Dick ducked out of sight into one of the drawing rooms and leaned against the door so that no one (Tim) could come in after him. It was the stupidest thing but Dick couldn't seem to help himself. Every time he saw Tim it brought back Blockbuster's campaign to destroy him, the shot that still seemed to echo in his ears and the feeling of Catalina against his body when all he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and sleep forever.

"I have got to get over this," Dick muttered while rubbing his face with both hands.

Three months, almost four months actually. He'd been home in Gotham for nearly four months and he still couldn't handle being too close to Tim. Frankly, that had been going on so long that Dick could hardly remember a time when he could casually sling an arm around Tim's shoulders and laugh with him. It hurt not to be able to be friends with Tim but there didn't seem to be any middle ground between 'avoiding my little brother' and 'kissing each other's lungs out', which Dick wasn't willing to do.

It didn't help that Tim was nearly seventeen now. He'd grown inches since Dick left Gotham, put on pounds of muscle. He no longer looked like the boy that he was. Dick sighed. Tim looked like a man, for all that he was shorter than any of them. Every time Dick saw Tim there was a moment of pure confusion as he expected to see the undersized thirteen-year-old that Tim had been and instead saw this confident, powerful young man who was in every way Dick's equal. Heck, in some ways he exceeded Dick. Tim in flight was a thing of beauty.

Thoughts of Tim in combat made Dick curl into a ball on the floor next to the door.

"God, I'm as bad as Timmy when he first got here," Dick sighed once the nightmare images in his head receded.

The scary part was that Dick was pretty sure that he was going through yet another round of the depression that had haunted him after his parent's death. He'd done a good job pretending to be okay back then and was doing his best to do the same now. It wasn't something that he'd talked to anyone about. Bruce had understood why Dick sometimes cried and clung. Alfred had pampered him and made his favorite foods. He was doing it again, had been all through Dick's recovery from the beating he'd taken from Blockbuster.

Still, that time and this time didn't feel quite the same. Dick thought that it was because of his unresolved interest in Tim. He couldn't quite relax with Tim around and it was spurring him into arguments with Bruce that verged on vicious and snapping at Alfred who never reacted half as strongly as Dick wished. Why he thought Alfred would snap back in anything other than his most stiffly proper British tone Dick didn't know, but he sort of wished that someone would.

Anything would be better than the confusion of rage, longing and hurt that tumbled around inside his heart.

"I need to get out of here," Dick sighed.

He'd been going out lately, though only as Dick Grayson. The high society parties hadn't been very satisfying so he'd gone to bars and then to dives and lately he'd been haunting Jason's part of town despite Jason getting in Dick's face and telling him to get the fuck out and not come back until he had his head screwed on straight.

"Never did have it on straight," Dick complained to the hassock sitting by the couch in the drawing room. "Jason should know that. We're all messed up. Why else would we do these things?"

The part that really bothered him was that in the last four months Bludhaven had slid straight back to its old ways. The inroads that he'd made as Nightwing seemed to have evaporated since Blockbuster's death. Dick sighed. At least Jason hadn't killed Catalina. He seemed to have beaten her to the point that she was half dead before dumping her on one of the few decent cops' patrol cars but he hadn't killed her. Whether it was out of respect for Dick's objections or just because Jason had decided she needed to suffer Dick didn't know. He didn't really care. At least she was locked away. Dick suspected that Tim had had a hand in her conviction. The evidence they police had gathered was way too professional for the policemen that Dick used to work with. Still it was good that she would never get the opportunity to hurt anyone again.

Especially Dick.

He couldn't really remember much of what had happened in the two days between Blockbuster's death and Tim's rescue. The little that he did remember of his time with Catalina made him shudder and curl back into a ball with his head on his knees. Despite the hickies that he'd seen in the mirror, Dick didn't think that they'd had sex. She'd wanted to. Dick remembered that much, but he's had virtually no sex drive. With all of his injuries and the mess that his head had been (still was) Dick didn't thing that he'd been able to get it up.

Of course, he still had problems with that, which made bar hopping a bit of an adventure but Dick wasn't out there for hooking up with someone. He went out to feel his body move, to remind himself that he was alive. The dancing and drinking were his way of finding his way back into the body that he felt somewhat divorced from, no matter what Jason had implied about running away from his responsibilities. Everyone around him kept saying that Dick had to take care of himself and then objecting to the methods he chose.

"I really do need to get out of here," Dick repeated when he realized that he'd been sitting on the floor long enough for his butt to go numb and a solid hour to pass.

Sneaking back upstairs in his own home was more than a little absurd but Dick did it anyway. As he packed clothes and cash and a dozen or so weapons, Dick admitted that he was running away again. It seemed to be a habit for him but Dick needed the space to sort things out in his head. If he'd been patrolling it would have been easier because he could have worked things out by beating on criminals instead of beating his head against the metaphorical wall.

There hadn't been any patrols since Tim rescued him, in part because he hadn't had a costume to wear. His last one had been trashed after the fight with Blockbuster, badly enough that Jason had offered the shreds left with a shrug of apology when he showed up at the Manor the day after Dick's return. Dick didn't really mind that. He couldn't have worn the old one anymore even if it had survived. There were too many negative connotations now. Designing a new suit was the perfect solution and the one that Dick had created was different enough that he felt like he could wear it without being miserable.

The blue was gone, replaced by red that fit his mood lately. The stripes that extended to his fingertips had been eliminated after Dick put on the gloves the first time and had an intense flashback to standing in the stairwell with Blockbuster's blood covering his hands. Plain black gloves worked much better. His new suit was different, which Dick liked, and sharper edged, which Bruce, Alfred and Tim had all protested, and best of all, it was done. Dick packed it into his suitcase along with the other clothes and weapons. He stiffened when the door to his room opened without a knock to let him know someone was coming in.

"What are you doing?"

Bruce's voice was stern and harsh. The urge to turn and explain himself was incredibly strong but Dick resisted it. There was no explanation that Bruce would accept. Dick knew that as surely as he knew that he shouldn't leave even though he knew that he was going to. He couldn't stay in the manor when he couldn't be in the same room with Tim.

"I'm leaving," Dick said as he zipped the suitcase shut as decisively as possible. "That should be obvious."

"Why?" When Dick turned and looked, Bruce's expression was a complicated mix of disappointment, worry and anger.

"I'm twenty-three years old, Bruce," Dick said. "I haven't been your partner for years. I don't think that I have to justify my actions to you."

"I think you do," Bruce said as he very firmly blocked Dick's way.

The worry and disappointment were gone, replaced by nothing more than anger. That was a relief. Dick could deal with the anger so much better than the worry and seeing disappointment in Bruce's eyes had always turned him into a little boy who wanted nothing more than to hug everyone until they stopped being sad. His anger flowed up, letting him meet anger with more anger.

"It's my life, Bruce," Dick snapped. "I don't have to tell you anything!"

His voice echoed out into the hallway, drawing Tim and Alfred to stare at the brewing battle. Tim's worried frown twisted Dick's anger into something worse, something that scared him with the intensity of it. It didn't appear to affect Bruce. Nothing affected him.

"This is your home," Bruce said so low and quiet that it should have been a whisper. It came out more like a threat, complete with clenched fists that suggested ropes or beatings.

"This hasn't been my home for years," Dick shouted. "What part of my not being here have you missed?"

As Bruce bristled Dick almost breathed a sigh of relief. It felt so good to let the welter of emotions loose at someone who could handle it. If there was one constant in Dick's universe it was that Bruce could handle anything that Dick could dish out, be it physical or verbal. Alfred's expression suggested that he was relieved that the explosion had finally occurred, though somewhat worried about how bad it was already. Their fight did reach whole new levels of viciousness though, driven mostly by Dick's need to escape Tim's horrified expression. He hadn't been in the Manor during the truly epic battles he and Bruce had had during Dick's teens.

By the end of the fight Dick stormed out of the Manor, suitcase and laptop in hand. He was already driving out of the garage when Tim ran in and all but flung himself in front of Dick's convertible to keep him from leaving. Tim looked like he was determined to stop Dick no matter what happened to him.

"Why are you leaving?" Tim demanded, both hands resting on the hood of the car. So much worry hung in his eyes, twisting the emotions in Dick's stomach into that uncomfortable ball of pain again.

"Because I want to," Dick said.

"Will you quit running away?" Tim yelled. "We just want to help!"

Dick jerked as if Tim had slapped him, switching the car into reverse so that he could pull out from under Tim's hands. "I'm not running away. I just don't want to be here anymore."

He steered around Tim who shouted at him, anger replacing the worry in his eyes too. Dick deliberately didn't look in the rear view mirror as he sped away from the Manor. It was running away, but not in the same way as it had been back when he realized that Jason and Tim were involved with each other. This would give him time to get his head on straight and Tim did have Jason to take care of him as well as Bruce and Alfred. Tim would be fine. So would Dick, once he'd gotten a little distance.

His hands automatically steered his car back to Bludhaven though this time Dick didn't go anywhere near the lower class neighborhoods that he'd frequented before. There was no reason to return to those haunts. Everyone he'd known and cared about was dead. Instead he went to one of the nice mob-controlled hotels in the heart of town. None of them knew that Dick was Nightwing, at least as far as he knew, but they should all know him as Dick Grayson, the rich heir who had been informally adopted by Bruce Wayne years ago.

The penthouse room he ended up in was a thing of luxury and decadence, like a call back to the days when his parents were still alive. They'd stayed in places like this so many times when traveling. Dick deliberately rearranged the main room of his suite exactly as his parents used to so that there was a huge open space in the middle that was clear for practice. That his practice was martial arts and gymnastics instead of ballroom dancing hardly mattered. It still felt like coming home after ages away.

Dinner was steak and lobster, a meal that he normally would have avoided but it fit with Dick Grayson the rich boy out on his own and doing what he wanted. The restaurant was full of mobsters and their hangers-on. Dick deliberately didn't listen in on what they were discussing at least until Slade Wilson walked in with his daughter Rose on his arm.

From the buzz that immediately rose, he'd been in Bludhaven since Blockbuster died, taking contracts from nearly anyone who offered. Probably half the kills in town could be traced back to him, though Dick suspected that Rose might have a part in it too. She looked different, more focused, less gentle. To Dick's eyes she looked like a female version of Slade, other than having two eyes. It was a very strange transformation from Lian's gentle babysitter.

He could feel Slade's eyes on his back as he left shortly later so, rather than ignore him, Dick nodded to him as if they were acquainted. They were, of course, just not in these identities. Back in his penthouse, Dick sighed and stared out the window. Rain battered against the windows, promising a cold, miserable patrol if Dick chose to go out.

Dick stayed in and slept late instead.

In the morning there was a note from one of the mob bosses, requesting that he join them for breakfast. That made Dick blink in confusion until he flicked on the TV and found that every single new show was talking about the huge fight between Bruce Wayne and his ward Dick Grayson while discussing what it said about Dick, Bruce, their supposed 'relationship' (which made Dick shudder) and how it would affect Dick's little brother Tim.

"How the heck?" Dick asked as he read the newspaper that had been deposited by his suite's door. "Oh, no. Alfred had a cleaning crew in yesterday?"

He groaned and checked the internet. It looked like every single one of people on the cleaning crew had snapped pictures or talked to one reporter or another. Some of them thought it was a sign that Dick had had a mental breakdown. Others thought that he was finally breaking free of the 'immoral relationship' he had with Bruce. A few were all for Dick breaking out and living his own life.

Dick flopped back on the couch and stared at the ceiling. He really should have been paying attention yesterday, obviously, but maybe he could use this to help clean Bludhaven up. This time around he wasn't trying to be a normal guy. As far as anyone else was concerned Dick could say that he'd become a cop to try to please Bruce. Having failed at that, now he was going to live his life as he saw fit. Cleaning up the streets as Nightwing hadn't worked but maybe if he went renegade and worked from the inside of the mob he could accomplish more. With his money and skills he could probably make a real difference.

"Renegade," Dick murmured.

The new suit flitted through his mind. It would be a good name for that identity. Brunch was just getting started when Dick sauntered in. He was almost automatically waved to the table holding the current mob leader working on replacing Roland Desmond, Dick's enemy Blockbuster. Slade and Rose were both there, watching him with too bright eyes as he approached.

"Morning," Dick said with a bright smile for Rose that made her blush prettily.

"I take it you know each other?" Tommy Tevis, Bludhaven representative of the New York Feritta family said with one eyebrow raised at them all.

"Sure," Dick said casually. "Rose used to babysit one of my friend's daughter. Haven't seen her in a while."

"How is Lian?" Rose asked. She leaned on the table to dimple adorably at Dick.

"Like I said, I haven't seen her for a while," Dick said. "Things have been… difficult lately."

"Heard you moved to town for a while," Slade commented while sipping his coffee. "And then left abruptly. You're back?"

Tommy looked at them all as if he realized there was a wealth of subtext going on in their discussion. Dick was ninety-nine percent certain that Roland hadn't told anyone else that Dick was Nightwing, which didn't change the fact that both Slade and Rose knew exactly who he was. Rather than admitting anything, Dick snorted and ordered breakfast, complete with tea as a nod to Alfred's breakfasts. It wouldn't be as good as Alfred's tea but that just gave Dick something to complain and be a spoiled brat about, if it came to that. Once the waiter disappeared, Dick turned back to Slade.

"Yeah, I did," Dick said. "I tried being a cop but that didn't work out very well. I ended up leaving the force after just a few weeks. It wasn't me."

"Why do it then?" Slade asked. He almost looked honestly interested.

"Bruce," Dick said and shrugged. "He's always looked up to cops and I wanted him to be proud of me so…"

He shrugged and had to fight a grin as Tommy, Slade and Rose all looked desperately uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. For once, his supposed love affair with Bruce was useful. Tommy changed the subject to the weather and then Rose took it into her efforts to learn how to defend herself properly by some strange trick of conversational judo that he had to admire. Dick commiserated with her and shared several stories of people who'd tried to kidnap him, making an effort to sound like it wasn't terribly traumatic if you knew how to handle yourself.

"So you know how to fight?" Tommy asked with obvious interest.

"Of course." Dick nodded at Slade. "Not like Slade here but I can take care of myself for the most part. It's the crazy stalker girls I have to watch out for, not kidnappers for the most part. I have way more trouble with girls than I do with getting kidnapped."

That seemed to verge entirely too close to talking about his 'love affair' with Bruce because the conversation immediately moved onto the sad state of the roads and how hard it was to get good workers in Bludhaven. Dick listened and added comments from time to time while sipping his tea. It wasn't as good as Alfred's but there wasn't any reason to complain so he didn't. Eventually, as they were finishing their breakfasts, the conversation cycled around to real estate prices in town.

"You had a place, didn't you?" Slade asked, again with that too intent look in his one good eye.

"Yeah," Dick sighed. "It was firebombed the night Blockbuster died. I wasn't home, thank goodness, but well, I lost everything I had in it."

"I suppose you'll rebuild it?" Tommy asked as if it was a foregone conclusion.

Dick allowed himself to show a bit of anger as he put his tea cup down a hair too forcefully. "No, I won't. I don't have it anymore. _Bruce_ decided I didn't need it anymore so he sold it without telling me. I'm thinking I'll buy a new place in a better neighborhood. I'd thought that I could renovate it and improve the area but that obviously didn't happen."

Once again, mentioning Bruce's name worked like gold to make everyone uncomfortable. Tommy squirmed. Rose looked away blushing. Slade snorted and shook his head as if he thought Bruce was an idiot for doing anything like that. He looked at Dick with a little smile that made Dick think he'd just given Slade the opening he was looking for.

"I've got a place not too far away," Slade said, confirming Dick's hunch. "The building next door is up for sale."

"Really?" Dick said, taking the bait because he was curious just exactly what Slade and Rose were angling for and he really did need to find a place to live besides the hotel. "Huh. I'll have to check it out after breakfast."

"I'd be glad to show it to you," Slade replied with just enough of a smile that Dick was sure he was up to something.

"It would be really nice to have someone I know in the neighborhood," Rose agreed as her dimples reappeared.

That seemed to be the cue for them all to head out. Tommy insisted on picking up the bill so Dick insisted on buying him lunch sometime in return. They walked out of the restaurant talking as though they'd been friends for years with Slade and Rose trailing at their heels. The bodyguards that Tommy had with him followed after that, hulking shadows that everyone noticed but ignored. Dick's lack of a bodyguard was visibly noticed by many more people as they left.

The house next door to Slade and Rose's place was very nice. It was a big four story brownstone that had been renovated a few years back with a large yard that conjoined in the backyard with Slade's place. The back yards were surrounded by a high brick wall that protected it from anyone's view. To Dick's amusement, Slade played tour guide, showing Dick all the good qualities of the place while pointing out a few things that needed to be fixed, like one wall that wasn't soundproofed well enough and the basement that was unfinished but which could be a great training area. Eventually they ended up in the backyard that the two houses shared.

"Okay," Dick said once he was sure that no one was listening in. "What's this really about?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Slade said with an amused snort. "You really think that act yesterday fools anyone?"

"It wasn't an act," Dick snapped at him in his darkest Nightwing voice. "Practically everything else in my life is an act but that wasn't."

Slade looked faintly surprised, complete with one eyebrow climbing towards his hairline. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Dick snarled at him. "What does it matter to you anyway? He was my godfather but he's a controlling bastard who thinks I should live my life exactly as he has. I'm not him. I never was him. I never will be him! I'm sick of him telling me what to do and how to do it. This is my life and I'm going to live it as I see fit."

"No more running around in a suit, huh?" Slade said with such obvious disbelief that Dick actually saw red for a moment.

The sheer rage must have shown on his face because Rose slipped behind Slade who moved into a defensive posture as if he expected to be attacked. Dick held his breath, very aware that he was shaking, that his hands had clenched into fists. The anger that had prompted his huge battle with Bruce was still there, waiting for him to let it loose. It felt as though it was never going to go away.

"That worked really well before, didn't it?" Dick said and heard ice in his voice that he wasn't used to. He sounded more like Tim being pissed off than himself. "Everyone and everything I cared about in this town is either dead or gone. I did my best to make things better and all it ever got me was pain, failed romances and dead bodies. Heck, it nearly got me raped. I would have done better to take your path than his! At least then I might have made a real difference, you know?"

He was shaking. Dick wasn't sure how much of what he'd said was true anymore. It felt like he really believed some of it, maybe all of it, except for the part about following Slade's path. He couldn't kill. He knew that. There was no way he could ever kill. He hadn't even been able to kill Blockbuster, which made him shudder and turn away because his hands felt like they were wet with blood again.

Every breath came with twice as much effort as it should have. It took effort to stay on his feet instead of curling into a ball as he had so many times back in the Manor. Dick started as Rose laid a hand on his arm, looking at him with enough sympathy that he was able to push the pain and rage back down again.

"Dick," Rose said gently enough that she sounded like her old self instead of this strange new self, "I understand. Sometimes you have to take a different path than the one you had intended. I… I'd really like it if you'd help me out. I want to learn to fight properly, to be truly effective. Father's doing his best but he's away a lot. Maybe you could help me learn while you figure out what you want to do?"

"You're one of the best," Slade said which made Dick stare at him. Praise from Deathstroke wasn't something to take lightly, no matter what their real scheme was. "I'd be grateful if you did."

Dick laughed a little shakily and looked up at the brownstone. "Well, I do need a place to live and it's always nice to know your neighbors."

Rose beamed at him as Slade smiled with enough satisfaction that Dick wondered if he'd just walked into a trap. Even if he had, it was better than staying in the Manor any longer. Today was the first time he'd felt really alive since he figured out that Tim was in love with Jason. Maybe this was the right path to take.

+++++

Tim watched the monitors and then sighed as he heard the too-light steps behind him. Rather than turn and face his visitor, Tim kept watching Dick in his ballroom, apparently explaining some sort of dance move to Rose who hung on his every word. Slade was watching from the sidelines, a smug little smirk on his lips.

"You are engaging in stalking behavior again," Damian said as if his mere presence should make Tim stop.

"I know," Tim said in his most deliberately calm and blasé tone of voice.

"…I do not understand the fascination with these individuals," Damian continued once he'd placed himself at Tim's right elbow. He glared at the monitors as if Dick, Rose and Slade where an affront to his senses. "You watch them every night."

"So does Bruce," Tim replied. "At least I only check once a day. Bruce checks three and four times a day."

Damian stared at him, disbelief so clear on his face that he might as well be shouting. Tim called up the monitor log, letting Damian see it for himself. Bruce's checks outnumbered everyone else's checks by three point five to one. They were silent for a long while, long enough for the explanation to turn into Rose begging Dick for some sort of dancing lesson. He wasn't sure exactly what was going on as he'd turned the sound of as soon as he'd called Dick's bugs up, but it looked like Rose was flirting again.

When Dick took Rose's hands and started to dance with her Tim sat up straight and called Oracle. She came online immediately, nodding to Tim and then glaring at Damian's little sniff of disdain. It only took her two seconds to see what he was seeing. He only seemed to call her about Dick, after all.

"He's dancing?" Barbara gasped.

"I know," Tim said as he turned the sound on again. Rose's laughter mixed with the music as Dick and Rose spun around the dance floor together.

"He hates ballroom dancing!" Barbara huffed. She looked disgruntled about it. "He would never dance with me."

"I do not under--"

Damian's voice shut off as Dick abruptly went pale, wrenched away from Rose and bolted out of the ballroom at a dead run. Rose moved to follow him but stopped when Slade waved at her. Tim tracked him through the bugs that Bruce had put in Dick's house to the basement workout room. Slade followed him as efficiently, staring at Dick as he sat with his head on his knees in one corner of the room. There wasn't a mike on that bug so Tim could only extrapolate what Slade and Dick said to each other.

"Why is he there?" Barbara asked in such a quiet tone that Tim thought that she was talking to herself.

They both gasped as Slade knelt next to Dick and put a hand on his shoulder only to find himself lip-locked with Dick. Damian made a disgusted noise and looked away. There was no way that Tim could force himself to look away, especially not when Slade put one hand on Dick's cheek and deepened the kiss into something virtually pornographic.

"He doesn't want this," Barbara sighed. "He's crying."

"I agree," Tim said. He shut off the feed when Dick desperately started pulling Slade's shirt open.

"I would tend to disagree with that," Damian said even though he still wasn't looking at the monitors. "It would seem evident that he does want it. He initiated the contact."

"No, he's… he's mixed up," Barbara sighed. "I wish we were still talking. I'd try and call him but he's blocked my number three times now."

Tim sighed with her as he let his head fall back against his chair. In the last few months since Dick's departure so much had changed. Dick had become a mob enforcer, using the name of Renegade. He'd moved in next to Slade Wilson and was tutoring Rose in how to be more effective as an assassin of all things. Everything that Dick did now seemed to be the exact opposite of who Tim knew he really was.

Of course the changes weren't just on Dick's side. Damian had arrived at the manor a week after Dick stormed out. His entrance into their lives had been a rocky one as Damian's attitude seemed to be that he was substantially superior to everyone else in the universe. Some of it obviously came from his upbringing but Tim suspected that a good portion of the prickliness came from discovering that he wasn't his father's only son.

Damian seemed to loath the fact that Bruce had adopted Tim years ago.

"I need to go," Tim told Barbara after a moment. "This can't continue as it has."

"Pulling him out of there didn't work very well last time," Barbara said warningly. "Do you really think that it's going to go better this time?"

"I don't intend to do the exact same thing this time," Tim said with a wry smile that made Barbara smile back at him. "Keep an eye on him, please. Dick really needs professional help but I don't think he's going to submit to it."

"Dick, get help?" Barbara said so sarcastically that Tim laughed and Damian snorted. "Sure, that'll be the day. Unfortunately."

She nodded at him before signing off. Tim shut the monitors down and turned to Damian who stared at Tim as if expecting to be smacked across the room. His automatic wariness always hurt a little bit but Tim remembered how cautious he'd been when he arrived at the Manor so he tried not to take it personally. Dick had survived Tim's settling in period; Tim would do the same with Damian. Even if he sometimes wanted to spank the boy until his butt glowed.

"We need to talk to Bruce," Tim announced.

"We?" Damian asked.

"Given that what I propose to do involves you, yes, we," Tim said. "I need your help with a couple of things if I'm going to be able to do what I need to."

"What things?" Damian asked as if he expected a trap. He followed Tim to the elevator with the same sort of caution.

"I need someone to look out for Colin," Tim replied. "He won't admit it but he really needs a friend after being experimented on by Scarecrow. And given that he's determined to be a hero, he could use some help in the field. I think you're a better choice for that than I am. He looks at me as an older brother and authority figure and what he needs is an equal."

Damian glared at Tim with his arms crossed over his chest. The suspicious attitude transmuted into pure pout coupled with a deep sort of rage that Tim knew he shouldn't find cute. Even though he was only ten years old, Damian would deny to his death that he was cute, even when he acted like a three year old denied his favorite toy.

"I am not his equal," Damian snapped. "You are Robin. If he wishes to be a hero then you are the proper one to befriend him and guide him."

"Mmm, true," Tim said as they arrived at the correct floor and went in search of Bruce. "But I was thinking about changing that."

"Changing what?" Damian asked.

"I think you should be Robin," Tim replied and then smiled as Damian froze and stared up at him in shock. "You're a little young for it but Dick started when he was eleven. You've got better training than he did at the time, too. Though there are some ground rules you'll have to follow. I think we can dispense with the terrible pun rule. I never did live up to that one."

Tim chuckled at Damian's open-mouthed shock. It didn't take them long to find Bruce who was in the kitchen with Alfred. Apparently Alfred had decided that it was a cookie day. Several varieties of cookies covered the counters, standing in perfect ranks of a dozen each. Bruce was carefully liberating gingerbread men from the cookie sheet as they walked in. Alfred smiled as Tim took an oatmeal cookie, nodding that Damian could have one cookie as well.

"I wanted to talk to you," Tim said to Bruce who grunted that he was listening without taking his eyes off of his careful gingerbread work. "I think it's time for Damian to be Robin. I want to take a new identity, not Nightwing, and get some more extensive martial arts training."

Bruce's start of shock tore the head off of his current gingerbread man, earning a grumbling noise from him.

"We can design a new version of the Robin costume for Master Damian," Alfred said so calmly that Tim suspected that he had deduced that Tim had been thinking about it for a while.

"When do you think he should start?" Bruce asked and then smiled when Damian gasped.

"Probably as soon as he has his costume," Tim said and chuckled at the barely hidden excitement in Damian's face. "I haven't told him the ground rules yet but I can."

"Do," Bruce said. "Get me a list of what sort of skills you want and I'll arrange for someone to come and train you."

"I'd actually rather go to train wherever they are," Tim said, though he waited until Bruce had safely deposited the last gingerbread man safely on the board. "It's… part of a plan I'm putting together to help Dick."

That prompted Bruce to actually meet Tim's eyes. Neither of them said anything but Tim could tell that Bruce was willing to do practically anything to ensure that Dick came home. None of their overtures towards reconciliation had been accepted. Even Alfred couldn't talk to him right now and given that Dick seemed to have decided to get romantically involved with Deathstroke Tim doubted that their monitors would stay in place very much longer.

Alfred quickly got Damian involved with sketching out what he wanted in a Robin costume. Tim's new costume was already designed. He'd done the design work ages ago, during Dick's convalescence in the Manor. It had been a lovely way to distract himself from Dick's refusal to even look Tim in the face. That pain had been added to the pain of Dick leaving, and then throwing himself into life on the wrong side of the law. If it weren't for Jason and Barbara's updates, as well as Bruce's bugs, Tim would have been there to yell at Dick in person long ago.

One month later, Damian went out on patrol as Robin for the first time. Damian hadn't liked the no killing (or beating the person to the point that they might die) rule, but he'd accepted it as the price of getting to wear the Robin suit. His suit was a darker thing than any of the others but it suited him so Tim hadn't objected. He rather thought that the hood was a good idea given all the rain that they got in Gotham, plus it promised to be helpful for hiding in the shadows on stakeouts.

Tim had already informed Jason (and Colin who had hugged Tim so tightly that it was like seeing the six year old that he had been) of the change ahead of time. He hoped that Colin and Damian would become friends but even if they didn't, knowing that someone was out there specifically looking after Colin made it easier to pack his bags for Paris.

"How long do you intend to be gone?" Bruce asked as they walked down to the garage together.

"At least several months," Tim said. "Possibly as much as a year, though I doubt that I'll stay away for that long. It depends on how fast I learn as well as several other factors."

"Other factors," Bruce repeated. His expression turned it into a question even though his tone had been matter of fact.

"Ask Oracle," Tim said with a little smile and shrug that got him one of Bruce's millisecond smiles in return. "She's watching over those factors for me. Oh, and be very careful not to mention where I am at any time. Barbara's going to be erasing all traces of me while I'm away."

Bruce looked at Tim and then chuckled while shaking his head. "Killing him with curiosity might get him to check in but I doubt that it will make him come home."

A shrug was the only proper answer to that. Bruce hugged Tim before Alfred drove him to the airport. The flight took half of forever and then he was in Paris. Tim doubted that he'd have time to see the sights. Bruce's old instructor Rahul Lama had made it very clear that the training would be quite intense.

Three months later, Tim thought that Rahul Lama had gone easy on him.

Lady Shiva was a thousand times more intense than Rahul Lama had been but she taught him what Tim needed to know. Hand to hand combat had never been Tim's greatest skill. He was too short to be truly effective at it and had accepted that. Instead he'd focused on adapting his gymnastic and aerialist moves into something useful for fighting. Lady Shiva had taken over when Rahul Lama declared Tim done, showing him all the things he hadn't known he could do.

Every day was a battle but that was what Tim had wanted so he never complained about it. In some ways it reminded him of being back in the circus with his parents. He'd never complained about training then so he flatly refused to complain about it now.

"You are fast," Shiva allowed as Tim tried to land just one punch on her. "But not fast enough. Be faster."

Nine misses later Tim was on the mat panting in pain from a blow that was so fast that he hadn't seen her move. He got up which earned him a smile that was almost as terrifying as Tim's reflection when he was in a rage. Two days later he managed to connect. Shiva laughed and allowed Tim a full eight hours of sleep that night. Two weeks after that he was connecting reliably, having learned how to read her moves and anticipate what she might do.

"Another message from your Oracle," Shiva said at the start of a training session a few days after that. "If you do well I shall allow you to read it."

Tim earned the message, full of details of Colin and Damian's epic baby-bromance and Dick's apparent decision to move into Slade's bed full time, in twenty-seven minutes, forty-three seconds.

"Good," Shiva said, wiping the blood away from her face. "You improve quickly."

"I have motivation," Tim replied respectfully. He didn't offer to help her up. She'd already taught him how annoying she found that.

"I am curious what that motivation might be," Shiva asked with a truly curious cock of her head at Tim.

"I need to be able to fight Deathstroke," Tim said and then sighed as Shiva laughed at him. "I don't want to try and kill him, only to be able to fight him long enough for certain things to be accomplished."

"Then we have much more training do to, apprentice," Shiva chuckled. She shook her head at him and gestured for him to attack again.

Tim did and decided a minute and a half later that he had a _lot_ to learn yet. He wasn't entirely sure how he'd ended up impacting the wall upside down but the move was too good not to get up and try again.

Several days later Shiva gave him the right to choose one particular weapon to train in. She wasn't pleased with his decision to use the bo staff but she accepted it relatively willingly. While it wasn't an automatically lethal weapon like most of Shiva's favorites, it was highly effective and it lengthened Tim's reach to levels he considered to be acceptable. Shiva didn't comment on his satisfaction at being able to hit targets that had been out of reach before but he could tell that his pleasure amused her.

More days, more messages, many more lessons passed before Shiva began to speak of Tim as anything other than a rank beginner. Tim thought that she was something like his mother, fierce and determined and utterly independent, as well as beautiful in an austere way. He never said that to Shiva. She seemed to realize it anyway.

Tim's eighteenth birthday came after spending nine months away from Gotham and six months with Shiva. Alfred sent cookies. Bruce sent several files on crimes that he wanted Tim's analysis on. Barbara sent him an email card that opened up to several fluffy yellow chicks singing naughty limericks along with a note saying that Damian had been so horrified by it that she'd had to do it. All Damian sent was a brief note saying that everything was fine but it was attached to a huge card from Colin that looked entirely handmade. He wasn't sure exactly what the picture was supposed to represent but Tim still put it in a place of honor in his room.

Shiva attempted to give Tim a beating but when that failed they contented themselves with a battle that broke four windows, damaged one wall to the point that it looked like Swiss cheese and left them both bloody and grinning.

"You have done well," Shiva said over dinner that night. "Tomorrow we will spar with bo staffs and we shall see if you are ready to move on."

Tim blinked at her and then bowed from the waist. They dueled with chopsticks over the last pot sticker. Tim was pleased but a little embarrassed when she let him have it.

The next day's battle could only be described as epic. They ranged throughout the house and then out onto the rooftops of Paris. Every time Tim thought that he'd managed to pin her Shiva slipped free to continue the battle. By the time he finally knocked her staff from her hands, and kept it out of her hands by kicking it over the edge of the roof, they'd been fighting for several hours and Tim thought every inch of his body was bruised.

"Excellent!" Shiva laughed. She was barely breathing hard while Tim panted like a bellows. "You have learned well, apprentice."

"Thank you," Tim said as he cautiously lowered his staff.

"Come," Shiva said. "We will go home and I will give you your birthday present. Then we will discuss where you will go next."

Tim sighed. Home meant getting patched up, to Tim's relief, and police sirens, to Shiva's annoyance. They slipped out of the building before the police caught them and went to her secondary hideout. Once there Shiva held out a short length of metal, a smile flitting around her lips.

"It's…?" Tim took it and then grinned as he found the mechanism to expand the staff. "Nice! Thank you."

"You have done well," Shiva said. "In time you could become my equal, Timothy. I will search you out in the future to see how you have progressed."

"I'll welcome that," Tim said honestly. "I've learned more from you than from anyone other than my parents."

"You cannot yet destroy Deathstroke," Shiva warned Tim, "but given that your goal is merely to battle him for a time, I think you may be ready."

"I hope so," Tim sighed. "Where will you go?"

"I have heard of a martial artist in Hong Kong called King Snake," Shiva said. "I will challenge myself by fighting him. You could join me."

She looked almost hopeful that Tim would come with her. He sighed and shook his head no. As much as he'd learned from her, it was time for Tim to go home. Bruce, Alfred, Jason, Colin, even Damian needed him. And Dick needed Tim too, despite his refusal to admit it.

"Thank you but no," Tim said. "I have a long-delayed conversation that needs to occur. I've put it off for five years. I think it's time to actually have it."

Shiva blinked at him and then shrugged as if the refusal was expected and nothing that bothered her. When Tim woke the next morning she was gone with all her things. He smiled at that and slipped out of the hideout with his few belongings. A quick call to Barbara had a return air ticket for Alvin Draper and Tim was on his way home at last.

As he settled into his plane seat, Tim sighed. The easy part was over. Now he had to convince Dick to come home, which would be much, much harder. Hopefully the plan he'd set in motion before his departure had worked. Between Barbara and Jason it should have, though Tim wouldn't know until he got home again.

+++++

It was like a puzzle that he couldn't find all the pieces for and it was driving Dick nuts.

The year since Tim completely disappeared from the face of the earth hadn't been a good one for Dick. Admittedly, a major portion of that was his fault. Moving back to Bludhaven and becoming the mob enforcer Renegade had been a terrible idea that he could only blame on the PTSD that he still refused to vocally acknowledge. At least he'd been able to limit his 'work' so that there were no guns, no kids and no killing, though Slade razzed him about the guns and killing parts on a regular basis.

Taking up with Slade had been a stupid idea too. Dick knew that much. He'd known it at the time but he'd been too off center after having a flashback of his parents being killed that had blended into one of Blockbuster dying. The sex was good, great even, but Slade had far too much control over him now that they were lovers. Granted, he seemed to use it more to drive Dick to use his brain instead of just reacting but it worried Dick how much he'd given up when he moved into Slade's bed.

And then there was Rose.

She was a puzzle in her own right. Slade claimed to be training her as an assassin but a year had passed and she still wasn't any closer to taking jobs. Granted, she was a couple of years younger than Tim and a gentle girl at heart, but Dick would swear that Slade let her stay and train only because he was desperately lonely and wanted the illusion of a family. She seemed to be just as desperate for a family. Rose's determination to be an assassin looked more like an effort to earn her father's approval more than anything else.

On top of all of that, Dick felt like he couldn't go two days without having one of his former teammates or friends buzz him. Superman flew over Bludhaven and helped the police out at least once a week. Kon was through two or three times a week. Dick could swear that Bart buzzed through every hour on the hour some nights but given his speed that wasn't too significant.

Plus the other Titans kept coming to town and Oracle sent him messages regularly no matter how hard he tried to block her for her own protection. Jason stopped by every two weeks in his gang persona though he'd never said one word about where Tim had gone. He'd talk about Colin and Tim's replacement as Robin, Bruce's surprise son Damian, but it was as if Tim was dead and gone.

The thought of Tim being dead made Dick's heart hurt so bad he had to shut his eyes and hold his breath against the pain. Tim couldn't be gone. He couldn't.

Especially since Dick had seen signs all over Gotham and Bludhaven that he was alive and manipulating things behind the scenes, though he'd yet to find anything to conclusively prove that it was true. It was the little things that made Dick think Tim was out there. The visitations by the various heroes were probably something that he set up. They'd listened to Dick about wanting to be left alone before Tim's disappearance after all. Dick was ninety percent certain that the arrest and conviction of several mobsters who'd targeted Renegade for death could be traced back to Tim's efforts. That certain contract offers Slade had gotten over the last few months turned out to be fakes were almost certainly Tim trying to find another way to get in touch with Dick.

But that didn't make any sense either. He could just call or visit or have Babs send a message since she seemed to be unstoppable when it came to computers. There was no need for all of this, if of course Dick wasn't making mountains out of molehills in his effort to deny that Tim was dead somewhere and Bruce was hiding it.

Would Bruce hide it if Tim had died?

Dick wasn't sure. He could think of several scenarios that would justify it but nothing that severe had happened in the last couple of years. Of course, Tim could have run away as he'd planned to all those years ago. He truly had no tie to the Manor and Gotham if he'd broken up with Jason. Not that Dick was certain that they had broken up. It just seemed very strange that Jason no longer talked about Tim or answered questions about him.

"Dick? Are you in here?" Rose asked from the door. "What are you doing?"

"Hmm? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking," Dick said. He put his laptop to sleep and turned to face her. "What's up?"

"Slade got a new set of contracts," Rose said, meeting his eyes fully for the first time in a long time. She'd blushed violently every time their eyes met after Slade took Dick as his lover. "He wants to go over them with us to see who does what."

"Let's go then," Dick said.

He stood and offered Rose his elbow. She laughed and took it, blushing again though not as violently as she used to. At least she seemed to be getting over her crush on Dick. That had been uncomfortable for quite a while.

Slade was waiting for them in his wood-paneled office, studying a folder while rubbing one thumb back and forth across his bottom lip. He smiled at Rose and then gave Dick a look that made his groin react automatically. The older man could be entirely too sexy for Dick's good. They settled into chairs on the opposite side of the desk at Slade's nod.

"Anything major this time?" Dick asked.

"Nothing too big," Slade said. "Two standard kills, one that I'm going to refuse because it's a fool's errand and one that's right up your alley, Dick."

"Really?" Dick said as his whole body went hard as a rock. Every time a contract came up that Slade wanted him to take it became a huge battle. Dick really hoped that this would be an easy one to refuse. He didn't want another battle right now. "What makes it so appropriate for me?"

"Your old friend Jason Todd has a new hero who's giving him grief," Slade said as he tossed the folder he'd been studying over to Dick. "He wants the boy beaten but not killed."

"Really?" Dick said, surprised that Jason would do such a thing. He held the folder for a long moment without opening it. "And he can't do it himself?"

"He doesn't want it to be traceable back to his gang. They're in the cops eyes right now and it would make business difficult for him," Slade replied. He nodded for Dick to open the folder. "New kid goes by the name Red Wing. He seems to have had assassin training, judging by his moves, but he doesn't kill. I've been watching him over the last couple of days. He's good. It won't be easy but the payout is very good. I think it's worth it."

Dick flipped the folder open and then froze as he saw Tim's face looking back at him. The picture was a bit blurred as the photographer had caught Tim in mid-whirl. His hair had grown out a bit, making it long enough to grab but not so long as to get in his face. The suit was different, something new that Dick had never seen before. Black and red with a mask that echoed Dick's Nightwing mask in all the sharp edges obscuring his cheekbones, the suit made Tim look a good four years older than he actually was and three times as dangerous as he should ever be.

"Who did he train with?" Rose asked. She'd leaned over the arm of Dick's chair to read over his shoulder.

"From his style I'd say it was Lady Shiva," Slade replied. "She recently reappeared in Hong Kong after being off the world stage for about six months. I'd say that we know where she was now."

Slade's voice sounded like it was coming from a million miles away, mostly because Dick's pulse was so loud in his ears that he couldn't hear clearly. Tim. Training with Lady Shiva. Jason, putting out a contract on him to have Tim beaten bloody. He shook his head and dropped the folder on Slade's desk, cutting off Slade and Rose's discussion of the differences between his style and Shiva's and whether Slade would win or not if they ever fought each other.

"This doesn't make any sense!" Dick exclaimed. "Jason would never do this to him. They're…"

He stopped talking before he could reveal Tim's new identity to Slade. There must be a reason for this charade, some sort of threat to Tim or Bruce or Gotham but Dick had no clue what it was. He'd been out of the loop for too long. Slade's eye narrowed as he glared at Dick.

"They're what?" Slade asked in that flatly threatening tone of voice that promised major amounts of pain if Dick didn't reply immediately. "Lovers?"

Dick hesitated and then winced as Slade shifted position to one that would let him come across the desk and take Dick down if he needed to. Rose's eyes were wide. She shifted back into her chair and sat primly with her hands folded in her lap. It would have been non-threatening in the extreme if her legs were tucked exactly right so that she could bolt to her feet and get out of the way in an instant.

"I thought so," Dick sighed while rubbing his face. "Maybe I was wrong about that but… I really thought that they were."

"Love affair gone bad would explain it," Slade said somewhat more calmly though he kept watching Dick far too closely. "Shouldn't matter to you. You've already delivered a few 'get over it' beatings to former lovers who took things too far."

The silence stretched as Dick opened his mouth and tried to find some way to refuse a contract that was absolutely perfect for him as far as Slade was concerned. Dick gestured and then Slade was flying over the desk to knock Dick out of his chair. He pinned Dick to the floor with enough force that Dick's breath was knocked out of him.

"Rose," Slade said in such a gentle, quiet tone that sweat broke out over Dick's body. "Leave."

"Yes sir."

She slipped out of the room and shut the door behind her, leaving Dick to deal with Slade as best he could. The handcuffs weren't a surprise though the tightness was. Slade tightened the cuffs to the point that Dick's fingers immediately started going numb and he risked bleeding if he struggled at all. Dick stayed as still as he could until Slade pulled Dick's ankles up and hooked a second set of cuffs through the first to hogtie Dick.

"I always knew you didn't actually love me," Slade said conversationally as he kept Dick pinned through the process of hogtying him. "Didn't bother me. You're sexy, we had fun. No problem. I have a problem now though."

"Slade, let me go," Dick said. He twisted his head to look over his shoulder at Slade, shivering at the rage and frustration in Slade's eyes. "You don't need to do this."

"I think I do." Slade sighed, checked the folder and then started gathering his weapons and pulling on his costume. "Your focus has been crap lately, kid. You refuse contracts. You try and talk Rose into leaving, not that I can blame you for that. She really doesn't belong in this lifestyle."

"So let her leave and release me and we'll talk," Dick pleaded. "I know I've been distracted. I'll work on it."

"Yeah, you will," Slade replied as he put on his mask. "After I get back, we'll talk about it, I promise. In the meantime I've got a baby hero to beat to within an inch of his life. He's what's distracting you and I won't have it."

"Slade!" Dick yelled as Deathstroke strode out of the office and out of the house.

He screamed at Slade, trying to get him to stop. The cuffs were so tight that Dick knew he shouldn't struggle. Dick struggled anyway, reaching for the pick hidden in his shoe with fingers already going awkward from lack of blood flow. As he tried to get free, Dick cursed and occasionally shouted for Slade, Rose, their occasional visitor Wintergreen who wasn't due back in town for a full month.

"He's gone," Rose said from the door as Dick finally managed to get the pick out of his shoe and to the ankle cuff closest to it.

"Rose, please you have to let me go," Dick pleaded with her.

"You know I can't do that," Rose sighed.

"It's _Tim,_ " Dick hissed at her. He was shaking with worry for Tim. "It's Tim and Slade will cripple him. Please, Rose! You know Tim. You can't let him get hurt this way."

Rose's eyes went wide and her mouth went into a perfect 'O' for a moment. After a second she frowned and then came over to kneel next to Dick with the most serious expression Dick had ever seen on her face. When she put her hand on Dick's back he stilled, craning his neck so that he could look up at her.

"You love him," Rose said and looked so much like Slade that it was scary. "You don't love Father. You love Tim, don't you?"

"He's in love with Jason," Dick explained and heard the pain in his own voice without being able to do anything about it. "He's been with Jason for years. I don't know what happened between them but I can't, I couldn't just… I can't let him be hurt, Rose. Even if I never get to be with him, I can't let Tim be hurt."

"Oh Dick," Rose sighed. "You're such an idiot sometimes."

He huffed at her but she just shook her head at him. There was an intensely long moment where Dick wasn't sure that Rose would let him free but she pulled out a handcuff key and released his arms and legs. Dick scrambled around, wincing as he rubbed his bleeding wrists.

"You'll let me bandage those before you go," Rose ordered sternly enough that Dick stared at her. "You can't have blood dripping in your gloves if you want to fight Father, Dick. He'll take advantage of every weakness. You know that."

Dick sighed but nodded. She was right. He let her bandage his wrists and then switched into his Ravager suit as quickly as possible. By the time he was ready the news was already reporting about a huge battle between Deathstroke and the new hero Red Wing going on across town. As soon as Dick had the location he was out the door on his bike. If he was going to save Tim he had to get there as quickly as possible.

"I'm coming, Tim," Dick whispered as he flew through Bludhaven's streets as though the cars were standing still. "Hold on. I'm coming."

He refused to think about what condition Tim would be in when Dick got there.

+++++

"You sure about this?"

Jason's voice was grim and worried in Tim's ear. He'd been worried about this ever since Tim returned and told him what was coming. Of course, Bruce had been twice as grim, Barbara had yelled and Damian had looked at Tim as though he was unutterably insane. The only person who seemed to think that Tim could pull this off was Alfred though he had been updating the medical supplies in a pointedly quiet way that Tim knew was his comment on what he thought was going to happen.

"I'm sure," Tim replied as Deathstroke approached along the vector that Tim had anticipated. "Just make sure that you follow the plan. Pin Dick down and don't let him interfere if he shows up early."

"Fucking nuts," Jason complained.

Tim smiled and put Jason's worries out of his mind. Deathstroke swung over the edge of the roof and stalked straight at Tim. He moved like death, which was appropriate given his name and profession. From the way his mask's eye twisted, he was glaring at Tim's quiet smile.

"We have an appointment," Deathstroke growled.

"I know," Tim said and deliberately smiled wickedly at him. "He did see the contract, didn't he?"

"You sent the contract in," Deathstroke said and then laughed. The sound was anything but amused. Tim thought that the likelihood of his death went up thirty-five percent at that moment. "I should have known after he protested that way."

"I did," Tim said. "I also told Lady Shiva that I would be fighting you so I would appreciate your taking the contract. I think she might end me if I don't battle you properly."

"Why?" asked Deathstroke, but no, that was Slade's voice and wasn't it strange to hear him full of concern and frustration instead of certainty?

Tim took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he pulled his new bo staff and expanded it. Slade slid straight back into Deathstroke mode, his hands drifting towards his weapons. The smile on Tim's lips didn't appear to reassure Deathstroke at all.

"He's been running away from his feelings for me since I was fourteen years old," Tim replied. "He's convinced himself that I'm involved with Jason, I think so that he doesn't have to deal with his feelings. You've done a good job getting him over the PTSD from the Blockbuster incident but he needs to stop running away. He also needs to see that I'm not a child anymore. This battle… will make him choose which direction he's going to go in. Yours or mine. And truthfully, Lady Shiva will kill me if I don't battle you properly."

That made Slade burst out laughing. "She probably will, won't she? Properly dramatic battle for the audience or serious?"

"I would hope that her training has been sufficient for me to survive a serious battle with you," Tim said with a wry little bow at Deathstroke. "After all, the contract is for a beating, not a kill. The money has already been transferred to your account, by the way."

"One thing first," Deathstroke said. He tapped his ear, smirking behind his mask as he talked to Rose over his comms. Tim tapped his ear and listened in, silently blessing Barbara's excellent skills with everything computer and communication related. "Yeah, it's me. Check on the kid. If he admits to what's going on, let him go. If not, make him free himself."

"Father?" Rose asked. She sounded utterly stunned. "You don't mean it. He'll come straight there and get hurt."

"Yeah, I'm serious," Slade said with enough affection in his voice for Rose that Tim revised his opinion on why Rose was there. "There's more going on here."

"If you say so," Rose sighed. "How soon should I go in?"

"We should be on the news soon enough," Slade said with a look at Tim that made him nod approval. "Once we're on TV, go talk to him. Once he's free, make sure he sees us fighting."

"Yes sir," Rose said in a tone that conveyed her confusion better than a sigh.

"Good girl." Slade tapped his comm and the concerned father slid away into the assassin.

"Thank you," Tim said once Deathstroke turned back to him. "That should help."

"We may not be some epic love match but I do care about the kid," Deathstroke said in Slade's voice, sounding tired and older than he looked by far. "I think we both know who he's going to choose."

Tim snorted at that, thinking of the years of Dick running away and all the pain that they'd gone through. He wasn't sure of it by any means but one way or the other they would have the end of this charade. That was what really mattered.

One second Deathstroke was looking at Tim and the next he was halfway to smashing Tim's face in. Tim moved as Shiva had taught him but it was barely enough to avoid the worst of Deathstroke's blow. He spun with the impact to his shoulder, using his acrobatic skills to get further away. The attempt to get distance wasn't terribly effective.

'So fast!' Tim thought as he backpedaled, jumped and then tumbled over the edge of the roof to the neighboring, slightly lower, roof. 'Faster than expected.'

A corner of his mind that had always calculated velocities and impacts, starting when he was three and had begun learning how to tumble like the clowns, kept track of Deathstroke's performance so that Tim could match it to things that he'd learned. The rest of his mind and body focused on getting out of the way of the worst blows or mitigating their effect to the greatest degree possible.

Deathstroke was well named. He was faster than Tim, much stronger and clearly healed much more efficiently. Tim managed to hit him solidly several times but the effect he'd been hoping for was less than desired. Deathstroke barely reacted to the blows. In his ear, he could hear Babs and Jason comparing notes on the fight, which Babs made sure was being broadcast and Dick's speed run across Bludhaven.

"You're not bad," Deathstroke said as he drove Tim to the street-edge of one roof and Tim leaped over him and scrambled away. "You're just not good enough."

"We'll see," Tim panted.

They both turned as Jason appeared on the next rooftop. He arrived just in time to tackle Dick and knock him to the asphalt. Deathstroke appeared to be smirking in his mask but rather than note it Tim attacked, using the calculations he'd gathered plus Lady Shiva's training to attempt to turn the tide of the battle.

His surprise attack surprised Deathstroke for less than one second but it still gained Tim several feet and put Deathstroke with his back to the street where the reporters and their cameras were watching. Apparently Barbara had gone all out in notifying the press of the battle because dozens of news cameras watched as the two of them battled back and forth with Dick shouting at them to stop. He shut up abruptly, tempting Tim to look and see what had happened, but Deathstroke was too fast, too strong and entirely too vicious for him to spare the attention.

Tim staggered as Deathstroke's fist connected entirely too solidly with his gut. Rather than allowing himself to crumple around it, Tim snaked a leg behind Deathstroke's knee and simultaneously wrenched at his shoulders while hauling with his leg. They tumbled down, hitting the roof hard enough to earn a quiet 'oof' out of Deathstroke.

"More?" Deathstroke murmured as he rolled them and Tim rolled them again, propelling them away from the edge of the roof.

"Not yet," Tim gasped.

He'd always thought of himself as exceptionally agile and flexible but Deathstroke was making him question that. Every way he twisted, turned or tried to gain some slight upper hand, Deathstroke was there and stronger than Tim. After a moment that felt like an eternity to Tim, Deathstroke wrenched the bo staff out of his hands and pinned Tim so thoroughly that he couldn't move and could barely breathe.

" _Don't!_ " Dick wailed though it sounded like he had something in his mouth.

"No killing him," Jason growled. The cock of his gun was just loud enough that it could be heard over the sound of the reporters, traffic and one cop helicopter hovering overhead.

They all froze as the helicopter hit them with a searchlight. Deathstroke chuckled, his one eye amused as he looked down at Tim. His grip on Tim loosened just enough that Tim could breathe properly again.

"That's that," Deathstroke said so quietly that only Tim could hear him. "Keep practicing, kid. You have some potential."

He was abruptly gone, standing up and disappearing over the rooftops before Tim managed to roll onto his stomach and then lever himself up to his knees. The injuries weren't all that bad, given the battle he'd just been through. Tim thought that Slade had gone somewhat easy on him, though Alfred's medical supplies were certainly going to be used when Tim got home. His training battles with Shiva had resulted in worse injuries on occasion.

Tim straightened up and made himself stay upright. Blood trickled in a couple of places but it wasn't significant compared against the police helicopter swooping lower or Dick's expression. So much fear filled Dick's eyes. He had a red gag in his mouth with leather straps holding it there. It looked as though he was expecting Jason to continue the fight now that Slade had left. At least Tim knew that the contract had been convincing enough, though he had hoped that Dick would see though the ruse.

"Bring him," Tim told Jason.

"You got it," Jason replied.

"Nghuh?" Dick grunted around the gag that Jason had produced from somewhere.

"There's a discussion we need to have," Tim said, holding his ribs as he retreived his staff, and then moved to Jason and Dick's side. "You've put it off long enough. You're not putting it off any longer."

Getting to Jason's hidden escape car turned out to be a bit more of a challenge than expected. Between the reporters and the gathering police, there was no direct path to get there. To distract everyone from Dick, Jason went one direction with the apparently automatically struggling Dick. Tim went in the opposite direction, smiling as he found Dick's bike and stole it. He'd have to retrieve his bike later but it was tucked away safely in one of Jason's mob parking garages. Dick's bike was much more accessible than Tim's at the moment so it would do.

It was a little bit large for Tim given Dick's somewhat longer reach but not so much as to make it impossible to drive. His probably broken ribs were harder to deal with, as was his potentially sprained ankle. He couldn't remember hurting his ankle but when Tim pulled into Dick's garage, Jason right on his heels, it was obvious that he had. Tim could barely put any weight on his foot at first.

"Broken?" Jason asked while pulling Dick out of the back of the van. He was still bound and gagged, though he was looking as though he was irritated by both now.

"I don't think so," Tim sighed as he leaned on Dick's bike and worked his foot gingerly. "Probably sprained though. You can take the gag off now, Jason."

"What are you guys doing?" Dick snapped the instant it was off.

"Good question," Slade asked from the stairs up to the house. "I didn't expect you to show up with him here."

"He needs to make an informed decision," Tim said with a shrug that made him wince. Almost certainly broken ribs. "He won't listen back home so we'll have our talk here."

Tim ignored Dick's spluttering as they all headed upstairs. To his relief, Rose wasn't there. Dick's kitchen was beautiful, elegant and obviously rarely used though it was very well appointed. Everything was of the highest quality and nearly all looked like new other than the coffee machine and the microwave. Once Dick was seated, very firmly by Jason, on one of the kitchen stools and Tim had relaxed with a sigh on another, Jason immediately set to rummaging through the kitchen for something to eat.

Slade's smirk was so pronounced that Tim chuckled at him. He tracked Jason's actions with his eyes but his center was focused quite firmly on Tim. It was a complement of sorts that Tim recognized from having trained with Shiva. He nodded to Slade but was too tired and sore to return the complement.

"What the heck is going on?" Dick complained once the silence stretched long enough for Jason to build himself a ham sandwich and Tim to determine that his ribs were broken and ankle definitively wasn't.

"I'm glad you asked, Dick," Tim said in his best cordial carney voice. "This is an intevention."

Slade burst out laughing and went for a beer from the fridge. "Oh, this is well worth the annoyance of that contract and battle."

Dick spluttered at all of them, jerking his wrists which were still bound behind him. The fear was gone, thank goodness, but Tim wasn't at all sure that Dick was thinking yet. He still seemed to be reacting instead of thinking about everything that had happened. It bothered him but Tim had to admit that he was the most intellectual of all of the Robins. Dick had always been one for reaction and action, not for introspection.

"You've assumed since I was fourteen that Jason and I are involved," Tim explained as patiently as he could with all of his injuries bothering him. "We're not. We're no more involved than you and Bruce were."

"Wait, I thought that they were lovers," Slade said from the fridge.

He offered Jason a beer and grinned when Jason took it.

"Nope, just convenient for people to assume it," Jason said around a mouth of sandwich. "Same for the two of us. He scares the holy fuck out of some of my guys and most of the other gangs won't come near me when he's around. Very useful."

"It's useful on my side too, though the Titans still tease me about dating a mob boss," Tim sighed. "I can't tell you how many reporters and society types have backed off when I mention Jason rather than digging into whatever they were asking about. It's… convenient, for the most part."

Dick took a deep breath and let it out in a huff that was part annoyance and part confusion. Tim watched Dick and continued to explain after a moment of thought. He allowed his annoyance at the situation to enter his voice as he spoke.

"Rather than do the logical thing and _ask_ what was going on, you ran away to the Titans. When things went poorly there, you ran away to Bludhaven. Then we saved you, you healed up and you ran away again. Fine. You can run if you wish. But you're going to do it with a clear understanding of what you're running away from."

"And what's that?" Dick asked.

His cheeks were bright red but he smirked as he pulled his arms around to the front and tossed Jason's handcuffs at him. Jason tucked them away and sipped his beer as if it was a completely normal thing for him, which of course it was. Slade shook his head at Dick as if dismayed that it had taken him that long which got a glare from Dick accompanied by two fingers tapped against one wrist and a raised eyebrow. Slade shrugged in silent not-apology, threatening by sheer force of personality to turn the conversation into something entirely other than what Tim had planned. Tim cleared his throat, recapturing Dick's attention, as well as Slade and Jason's.

"You're looking at three people who love you," Tim said and then sighed at the completely stunned expression on Dick's face. "You can keep running away from love or you can choose to try for it. I know where I'd like you to go and where we expect that you'll go but this is your life and your choice. You can pick Slade and be Renegade for as long as you like. Everyone will back off if so. You can pick Jason, not that he expects you to, and live a relatively normal life. Or you can pick me, come home, and go back to being Nightwing. Either way, you need to choose where you want to go with your life instead of just reacting to events as they happen."

+++++

Dick stared at Tim, the phrase 'three people who love you' echoing in his brain as though it was a rubber ball bouncing around inside of his skull. He wouldn't have thought that Slade loved him. It was obvious that he cared though Slade showed that care in strange, usually bruising, ways. Tim's affection was something that Dick had always thought of as brotherly, not sexual. But to hear that Jason had been (still was?) in love with him made Dick stare.

"No way," Dick said to Jason who snorted and pointed one finger of the hand holding his beer at him.

"You, my friend, are the most clueless son of a bitch in the history of the world," Jason replied. "You seriously think that kiss meant anything other than I wanted to jump your bones?"

"You were fifteen!" Dick protested. "I thought…"

"That I was a former hooker who confused sex with affection," Jason finished for him so dryly that Dick winced. "Well, fuck you very much, that wasn't confusion. That was me trying to get through your goddamned thick skull."

Slade chuckled and shook his head before sipping his beer. He looked so amused by the whole thing that Dick was tempted to yell at him but that wouldn't help and Dick knew that Slade wasn't hurt badly enough to slow him down if they got into a fight.

"Does have a thick skull, doesn't he?" Slade commented to Jason.

"Unreal," Jason sighed.

"Where's the first aid kit?" Dick said, throwing up his hands at the three of them. "I'm not having this discussion while Tim's bleeding all over my kitchen floor."

"I'm not bleeding anymore," Tim grumbled at him and then groaned as Jason started fussing too. "Fine. Bandages but then you're making some sort of rational decision."

"You do know me, right?" Dick quipped as Slade passed the kitchen first aid kit over to him.

"I used to," Tim replied so sadly that it shut Dick up.

Tim did have a point. Dick had been gone for years, much longer than he'd intended the first time he ran away from the mansion. When he left Tim had been just barely fifteen and so slim that he looked two years younger. Now he was eighteen, much larger and stronger, and Dick had missed the entire process of Tim's maturation.

"Ribs?" Dick asked.

"Broken," Tim sighed. "Not too badly. Just one on the right and two on the left. I've had worse."

"And to think I thought it was a good blow," Slade said with a little snort at Tim's calm reporting while Dick wrapped his ribcage with bandages.

"Oh, it was," Tim said. "But Shiva did worse while I was training with her. And I've fought Clayface. He gave me flail chest once when I was sixteen."

"That's worse," Slade agreed with a calm nod that made Dick feel like an idiot for wanting to wrap Tim up and keep him safe.

They chatted about their battle while Dick and Jason worked on bandaging Tim's wounds. The ankle was the worst in Dick's opinion. Getting his boot off would have been impossible if Tim hadn't designed it to open up all the way down to the sole on the inside of his foot.

Tim was entirely calm as Dick patched him up but there was something utterly intense in his eyes, a mixture of annoyance, affection and impatience that Dick realized he'd seen every time they'd interacted in the last few years. Once the kit was put away Dick sighed and sat back down on his stool.

"Love," Dick asked Tim. "Define."

"You're kidding," Tim said so flatly that Jason and Slade both snickered behind him.

"Hey, cut me some slack here!" Dick mock-huffed at him. "I'm trying to do this rationally, just like you asked. So what do you mean by love? I can think of a half dozen definitions of the word. Is this big brother-little brother type love or friendship or passionate or what?"

As he watched, Tim's cheeks went so red that it looked like he was about to explode from sheer embarrassment. Jason's lips were twitching but he was perfectly silent behind Tim. Even Slade looked like he was doing his best to restrain the urge to make some sort of quip. After a long moment of Tim blushing more and more brightly, Tim sighed explosively.

"You are not and never have been my brother, Dick," Tim declared, eyes firmly shut. "It's been far more in the range of tear your clothes off and lose a week together in bed since I was fourteen, not that you noticed that."

"Sounds about right," Jason agreed. "Certainly what I intended to do to you."

"Mmm, he is fun to lose time with," Slade sighed and then backed off with his hands raised while laughing at the glares he got from Tim and Jason. "Hey, can I help that he came onto me? Nobody rational would turn that down."

"Granted," Tim growled at him. "I think I need to train much harder."

"Always good to have a goal, kid," Slade said with his best Deathstroke smirk firmly in place. "Feel free to send another contract in when you decide you want to get beaten up again."

Dick shook his head at the three of them. "Do I have to have this discussion with all three of you here?"

"Yes," Slade, Jason and Tim said at once, each with a nearly identical glare at him.

"If I could have, I would have invited Kory, Roy and Barbara to the party," Tim said so sternly that Dick couldn't help but grin at him. "They're all in the same boat we are, after all."

"I think I'd definitely run away if I had to face that intervention," Dick said.

He waved a hand at them and went to get a beer of his own from the fridge. There was a coke for Rose that Dick gave to Tim who took it somewhat reluctantly. Dick thought about making himself a sandwich but there was no point. All of the questions, teasing and thoughts of food were nothing more than distractions.

It all boiled down to whether or not Dick would let himself have what he'd wanted for years.

Jason had never been a possibility in Dick's mind. Slade, Kory, and Roy had all be substitutes for the one person that Dick pined for. Barbara had been more; way back when they were teenagers, but they'd both outgrown the relationship before Tim's parents had been murdered. If he was honest with himself, Dick knew that he could spend the rest of his life looking for someone who meant more to him than Tim and fail.

"I just… you're a lot younger than me," Dick finally said to Tim when the silence in his kitchen had started to echo with the emotions surging around them. "You should have someone less messed up as your first."

"Dick," Tim sighed while shaking his head sadly, "I'm eighteen years old. You're not my first. You're not even my second. Seriously, I haven't been a virgin for years."

"He's not?" Jason asked in a shocked enough tone that it matched Slade's startled grunt. "Who the hell?"

"None of your business, Jason," Tim said almost primly enough to offset his smirk. "Who's your lover that you refuse to introduce me to?"

Jason's wordless grumble made Dick start laughing. As Jason started listing off everyone that Tim had associated with during the last few years in an effort to get a reaction from Tim, Dick kept laughing. By the time Slade suggested Shiva, to twin horrified looks, Dick had tears in his eyes and his stomach ached.

"Shiva?" Jason asked with total disgust.

"She's hot and deadly," Slade said with casual shrug. "What's not to like?"

"She reminds me of my mom," Tim replied with a shudder.

They all froze as Dick reached out and caught Tim's neck so that he could pull Tim into exactly the sort of kiss he'd never allowed himself to think about. Tim was stiff underneath his touch for all of about two seconds and then he kissed back with enough skill for Dick to wonder exactly who his other partners had been. Because Dick sort of thought they needed a threesome. Or something.

"Uh, wow?" Dick said once he let Tim's lips go an eternal couple of seconds later.

"He can't kiss that well," Slade huffed.

"Wow," Dick repeated.

He blinked at Slade who started chuckling and Jason who shrugged as if it was to be expected that Tim would kiss like life and death and flying through the air without a net underneath you for the sheer thrill of it. Tim sighed and leaned his chin on one hand, watching Dick with an expression that was smug and impatient at the same time.

"No, seriously, that was wow," Dick said with as much of his old Robin cheesiness as he could manage with tingling lips. And nether regions. "I gotta find out who his other partners are so that I can kiss them to."

"You are not kissing anyone else if you're with me," Tim huffed though he was laughing his silent, shoulder-shaking laugh.

"Aw, come on," Dick complained just to see if he could get the laugh to move up a notch. "I mean, he has to be incredible, whoever he is."

"You assume that I've only been with males," Tim said so utterly smugly that he got arch looks from everyone else. "That's not a good assumption."

Jason growled with a pointed glare at Tim that implied a serious battle once Tim healed up. Slade looked thoughtful as he started counting something, probably Titans, on his fingers. Rather than play into either Tim's smugness or the urge to tickle Tim until he confessed, Dick leaned over and captured Tim's lips again.

By the time Tim let him go this time Slade's cheeks were faintly red. Both he and Jason were watching with enough interest that Tim glared at them. Dick laughed as he settled back onto his stool. Maybe it wasn't the most logical way to choose but having kissed each of them, Dick really didn't think he could choose anyone but Tim.

"He can't be that good," Slade offered a few seconds later.

"Does make you wonder," Jason agreed.

"If either of you try to kiss me I'm going to gut you," Tim said in a scary ninja voice that was actually intimidating enough that Dick thought he should be the one in the Renegade suit.

"Doesn't matter," Dick said breezily despite the way his stomach clenched at the thought of telling Slade that they were over. "Those lips are mine now. I'm gonna go change and get my things from your closet, Slade."

"And is anyone, anywhere, surprised by this decision?" Slade asked while rolling shaking his head at Dick. "No fucking surprise, kid. Tell Rose while you're over there. And make sure you visit. She's going to miss you."

"Will do," Dick promised. "Jason, make him eat something, will you?"

"Huh, like there's anything to eat in this kitchen," Jason snorted. "Get your ass in gear and Alfred'll feed him."

Dick waved but as he left the kitchen for the back door that led to Slade and Rose's back door, he looked back at Tim. It still seemed like a fantasy, despite the way his cup pinched his groin. Slade and Jason were comparing notes on how the news media would spin the Deathstroke-Red Wing battle while Tim listened in. He had one arm wrapped around his ribs and bruises were startling to turn purple over his face. Despite the obvious pain he had to be in, when Tim met his eyes there was nothing but hope and a surprising amount of lust there.

As he slipped out the door Dick blew a kiss at him and then laughed as Tim rolled his eyes. The tight set of Tim's shoulders relaxed a little bit though so Dick counted that as a win. It was dark enough that Dick didn't have to worry about someone spotting him in his Renegade suit, not that anyone could with the shrubbery and walls around the back yards. Rose looked up when he came in, her eyes very intent.

"Oh, you finally went for it," Rose breathed. "Good. It's about time."

"Do I have it written on my face or something?" Dick asked.

Rose laughed and stood to give him a hug and a kiss on his cheek that felt strangely like getting his mother's approval decades after her death. She patted his shoulder fondly before sitting back down at the kitchen table.

"No, you're just grinning like you used to before you left the Titans," Rose said. "It's good to see that smile again. Will Father be back soon?"

"Mmm, I think so," Dick said. "He's going to tease Tim for a while and he and Jason seem to be bonding in this scary I-kill-people-for-fun sort of way. You don't mind that I'm leaving?"

"Dick," Rose said so fondly that he blushed and fussed with taking off his mask to hide it, "all I ever wanted was for you and Father to be happy. I know you two had fun together but neither of you have been happy with this… thing you have. If Tim makes you happy, so be it. Though if he hurts you, you should know that I will hunt him down for it."

She looked utterly serious about that; for one instant her face became the perfect reflection of Slade Wilson, Deathstroke, as a young woman. Dick shivered. When he hugged her that scary intensity vanished into the sweet girl he'd always known.

"I know you would," Dick said. "I really don't think he could. I'm much better at hurting myself than anyone else could ever be at hurting me. Blockbuster taught me that lesson entirely too well."

Her hug lasted just long enough to remind him that Rose was yet another person who'd tried to give him his heart, but she pushed him away towards the kitchen door with a wrinkled nose. Dick laughed, heading for the obviously necessary shower and change of clothes. As he headed upstairs, Dick realized that he'd laughed more in the last hour than he had in the previous several years.

"I wonder if I lost myself for a while there," Dick murmured.

It felt like he had, like he'd been so concerned with everyone else that he'd lost the things that made him happiest. There had been so little laughter since he, obviously incorrectly, assumed that Jason and Tim were a couple. Dick stripped off his Renegade costume, abandoning it to Slade's bedroom floor as though he was a snake shedding its skin.

"Or maybe I just needed to find that lost piece that makes everything else make sense," Dick said while setting the shower's temperature. "I'll have to make sure I don't lose him ever again."

Dick smiled and stepped under the deluge, washing away the past pain as he hopefully had washed away his past mistakes. There was still a lot to deal with, not the least of which untangling his life from the mob here in Bludhaven, but everyone pretty much knew that Dick Grayson was Renegade. Jason kidnapping him with Red Wing would actually make it easier for him. As he made plans and thought about all the people he needed to hug to say thank you for not giving up Dick laughed.

He had plans for the future, things he wanted to do and people he wanted to see. Tim really had been the missing piece of his life. Maybe all the emotional baggage Dick knew he carried with him would be lighter with Tim helping him lug it along.

+++++

Tim watched quietly from the doorway as Dick set his suitcase down in the middle of the bedroom that had been his and had remained his even while he was gone. Dick looked as lost standing in the middle of the room as Tim had felt when he'd arrived at the Manor. As the seconds ticked by, Tim could almost literally see doubt creeping into Dick's mind. It showed in the increasing tightness of his shoulders, the tiny aborted movements as if to put clothing away, and then to go into the bathroom, and then to sit down on the bed, none of which Dick actually did.

"Come on," Tim said as he grabbed the back of Dick's shirt and tugged him out of the bedroom.

"Uh, Tim?" Dick asked.

He followed willingly enough, not tugging or resisting as Tim dragged him down the hallway and into Tim's neat bedroom. When Tim pushed, Dick settled onto his bed but he blinked at Tim as if he wasn't sure what was going on. Tim didn't explain. Instead he went to brush his teeth, which was an exercise in pain control given the bruises on his face and the right back molar that felt loose. Dick was still sitting on Tim's bed, now with a truly puzzled look, when Tim emerged from the bedroom.

"Bedtime," Tim said while trying to pull his shirt off. "Ow."

"Let me help," Dick huffed, the puzzlement transforming into fond worry.

With Dick's help, Tim stripped down to his boxers. As soon as Tim sat down Dick stood up so Tim caught his wrist and hung on hard enough to possibly leave bruises around Dick's wrist. The puzzlement was back, joining the worry in Dick's eyes.

"Come to bed, Dick," Tim asked with a bit more pleading in his voice than he intended.

"You're hurt," Dick protested.

"I know, that's why I want you to come to bed," Tim said and grumbled internally as his cheeks started burning with another blush. "I sleep better when I have someone to cuddle. I always have."

"Really?" Dick asked. A delighted grin erupted, accompanied by one of Dick's little chuckles. "Who cuddled you to sleep when you were little?"

"Usually Gurbel, the tiger," Tim admitted and then rolled his eyes at the near squeal of delight from Dick. "Stop that and come to bed, Dick. I'm sore and tired and cold. I want someone to hold me while I sleep. It's hard to sleep without someone else here."

Dick nodded, still grinning, and stripped down to his boxers. He had a few fading bruises that looked like sparring damage but other than that his body was perfect. Tim barely even noticed the scars. His groin wanted to pay attention but Tim was too tired for more than a twitch of anticipation for what he hoped would be coming in the not too distant future.

Once they were in bed together Tim smiled. Dick was exactly the right size in his opinion; larger but not too large, well-muscled but still lithe and agile, and as warm as having a heating pad turned to ten. Tim sighed and then smiled as Dick laughed into his hair.

"Comfy," Tim mumbled against Dick's neck.

"Tiny Tim and a real tiger to cuddle," Dick chortled.

"I have pictures somewhere," Tim admitted just to hear the suppressed laughter turn into open laughter.

"Oh, that I have to see!" Dick said and moved as if he wanted to get up. Tim tightened his grip on Dick's rib cage, prompting Dick to laugh. "No moving?"

"No moving," Tim agreed. "Pictures in the morning. Sleep now."

"Night Tim," Dick murmured.

He brushed a kiss against Tim's hair as he wrapped his arms around Tim's back. Tim sighed and relaxed into the best sleep he'd had since the time he fell asleep across Kon and Bart's laps during one of their movie marathons at the tower. Waking up with them holding him had prompted sex that Tim knew he'd have to explain to Dick eventually but after Dick's escapades with the elder Titans Tim really felt no guilt whatsoever about his own, much more discrete, sexual adventures.

Dick got up at some time during the night to go to the bathroom, which meant that he woke in the morning to Dick spooning him while he whispered to Damian about something. Tim mumbled at them and rolled over to latch his arms around Dick's stomach. That made Dick's stomach shake with a silent laugh but Tim tried to ignore it so he could go back to sleep.

"I was unaware that he was so… tactile in slumber," Damian whispered. He sounded as if he found it disturbing.

"There are pictures of him as a little kid cuddling a tiger in his sleep," Dick replied in a tone that made his delighted grin obvious even without Tim opening his eyes.

"Where?" Damian asked and if that wasn't an 'I have found the perfect blackmail' tone of voice Tim hadn't been born a carnie.

"Top shelf, left bookshelf, third book from the right, black binding," Tim grumbled at them. "Sixth page on the bottom right. Sleeping. Be quiet."

Damian's nearly silent laugh was followed by the sound of him pulling a chair over to get the old photo album down. When Damian came back over and made a little sound that was somewhere between disgusted and immensely amused Tim sighed and gave up on sleep because Dick made his near-squealing noise and jerked as if he was making grabby hands for the album.

"Oh my god, that's adorable!" Dick laughed.

"What part of sleeping do you two not understand?" Tim asked. He settled back into the blankets when Dick sat up and started paging through the album.

"The pictures stop with many pages left," Damian commented.

"My parents were murdered when I was thirteen," Tim said with his eyes shut. "I started a different photo album after that."

Tim blinked when his words were met with total silence. He opened his eyes and looked at them, chuckling at the twin stares of curiosity that met him. When Tim pointed back at the shelf Damian ran over and started pulling down the other photo albums, bringing them over to share with Dick. Pretty soon there was no way for Tim to lie down. The bed was covered with photo albums.

"You are not in any pictures from the time you were five," Damian noted.

"No, I got my first camera after that," Tim sighed while rubbing his ribs to assess how sore they were. He winced and stopped rubbing. "I took all the pictures in the photo albums once I had it. It's sort of a hobby."

"You're good at this," Dick murmured.

He was looking at one of the most recent albums full of Tim's candid portraits of people on the street or at various parties he'd gone to with Bruce and Damian. The black and white gang member pictures were Tim's favorites so he blushed as Dick slowed down and studied each of them as if they were works of art.

"I try," Tim said and then winced when the shrug pulled a dozen or so bruises as well as his broken ribs. "Breakfast?"

Damian nodded and set to putting the albums away again but Dick leaned over and kissed Tim as if he wasn't sure that he had the right. Tim snorted and kissed him back with every bit of the ferocity of his feelings. He ignored Damian's squawk of dismay entirely.

Dick's first day back was full of visitors, starting with Superman and moving on down through the League and Titans. Roy and Kory's congratulations to Tim and thumps to the back of Dick's head made Tim laugh despite the pain. Kon spent most of his visit exclaiming about how awesome it was that Tim had fought Deathstroke and won. He wouldn't listen to anything Tim said about it being the other way around. Cassie asked when Tim was rejoining the Titans, which Tim put off answering due to his injuries and Dick being an idiot about planning, which prompted laughs from everyone but Dick. He pouted until Tim kissed the pout away.

The next couple of weeks were busy with getting Dick out of the mob (easily accomplished when Deathstroke said he'd 'fired' Renegade), getting his money out of the mob's hands (not so easily accomplished but Dick hadn't been a total idiot about his investments so he and Bruce managed it fairly rapidly) and creating Dick's new uniform as Nightwing.

"Could be Blue Wing," Dick said with his biggest grin once the new, much sleeker, uniform arrived.

"I won't be seen in public with you if you have that name," Tim huffed at him. His revised Red Wing uniform was in as well.

"But we'd match!" Dick laughed.

The only answer to that was pinning Dick to one of the cave's walls and kissing him until they were both entirely too bothered to go out on patrol. Not that Tim was ready to patrol yet given the ribs and his nearly healed ankle but the kissing still served his purpose of keeping Dick in while everyone else went out. Alfred chased them back upstairs with a fond little look and scolding words not to reinjure himself with too much activity.

"He um, didn't actually mean what I thought he meant, did he?" Dick asked once they were back upstairs in Tim's room.

"I think he did," Tim said with a smirk that made Dick blush. "I did warn him that I intended to seduce you tonight. Since you're being so very respectful and Victorian about this."

"I am not!" Dick protested.

"We've been sleeping together for two and a half weeks and you've yet to touch anything below the waist," Tim countered just flatly enough to turn Dick's blush into a blazingly bright splash of red that extended to the tips of his ears and under his collar. "No excuses about me being hurt. I want to feel you, Dick. I've thought about this for years and I know you have too. Please?"

"That's cheating," Dick sighed but he was smiling through his blush and perfectly willing as Tim pushed him back onto the bed.

Getting their clothes off didn't take too long though Tim thought it took something close to an eternity. He was already hard as a rock but Dick was only halfway there when his boxers came off. Tim smiled and spent a long time kissing Dick the way Bart and Cassie had taught him. Steph's trick with the fingers along the ribcage had Dick shuddering and moaning. Dick seemed to like teeth even more than Kon had, which made Tim smile and cover him with hickies from his neck down to his inner thigh.

"You don't have to…" Dick started to say and then groaned as Tim started blowing him. "I take that back. Don't stop. Oh my God!"

Tim chuckled around Dick's cock and used everything he'd ever learned to make it the best experience possible for Dick. It wasn't long before Dick gasped a warning and came in his mouth. Once Dick was done, Tim swallowed and moved up to straddle Dick's hips. His rapidly waning erection twitched and started firming again.

"I thought… you'd… you know," Dick said somewhat incoherently as Tim rocked on his pelvis.

"Another time," Tim said around his pants. "I want you in me. Want to feel you inside of me Dick. Thought about you for so long, how it would feel if it was you touching me, you filling me up. Please?"

Dick groaned and flipped them over so that he could kiss Tim senseless. Tim kissed him back, one hand fumbling through the bedside table for appropriate lubrication and the condoms that Alfred had secreted there once Dick arrived back at the manor. To Tim's dismay, Dick took his time on the preparations, so much time that Tim was begging in a broken voice that he barely recognized as his own.

"God, you're beautiful," Dick whispered as he finally, finally pushed Tim's legs back and then pushed inside.

"You," Tim whimpered, "you're… oh God! So perfect!"

It wasn't like anything that Tim had imagined while masturbating or with his other lovers. Dick was gentle but used force when Tim asked for it. He responded to anything Tim did as though it was the most incredible gift he'd received in his life. Tim had to shut his eyes halfway through because the love and joy in Dick's eyes was too much. The last thing Tim wanted was to cry.

Tim came first, no surprise after the blowjob took the edge off for Dick, but Dick wasn't much after him. They lay together, sweaty and panting. Cleanup turned into a second round with Dick riding Tim's erection. He left new bruises on Tim's arms when he came from clamping down so hard. The third round was in the shower together, after which Tim had to admit that his lingering injuries were bothering him.

That night Dick had nightmares for the first time, or perhaps it was the first time they were bad enough to wake Tim up. Tim thought that they were about Tarantula's abuse but when Dick finally woke and stared at Tim as if expecting to see him dead he realized that it must have been a Blockbuster nightmare instead. He held Dick through the shakes that followed, both of them slipping back to sleep eventually.

In the morning, Tim woke first. He carefully eased up onto one elbow so that he could study Dick's face while he slept. He truly was beautiful, with the sort of face that classic Greek sculptors would have loved to capture in marble. But it was the little smile wrinkles around Dick's eyes and mouth that made Tim's heart swell. It had never been Dick's face that had attracted him. Dick, himself, his personality, was what had captured Tim's heart all those years ago.

Dick's eyes fluttered open and he immediately grinned up at Tim.

"Staring at me while I sleep?" Dick asked while rubbing his eyes with the back of one hand. "Should I be worried about having another stalker?"

"You've had this stalker for five years," Tim answered, an unfamiliar wide grin stretching his lips. "That's nothing new."

That made Dick laugh and hug Tim, which led to the two of them rubbing off on each other, which of course led to showers that included enough kissing that Tim's lips felt somewhat bruised by the time they went down to breakfast. Damian took one look and clucked his tongue. Bruce's expression didn't change but his eyes seemed to warm up a degree when he saw that Dick was holding Tim's hand. Alfred of course nodded and served them their breakfasts without comment.

"What's on the agenda for today?" Dick asked once they were having coffee.

"I believe that Master Bruce has arranged for a sort of get-together this afternoon," Alfred said with a look at Tim and Dick that told them that they weren't going to get out of it no matter how they protested. "The Titans and various other people will be arriving shortly before 2:00. It is, as you say, something of a surprise party for Master Dick's return to Wayne Manor."

"Really?" Dick asked with enough enthusiasm that he sounded Damian's age instead of twenty-four. "Will there be cake? And balloons? How about games? Are we going to play games?"

Tim laughed as Damian rolled his eyes at the way Dick bounced on his chair. He could tell that Dick was doing it because of Damian's reactions but the response was so Dick that Tim sat back and just enjoyed it. Bruce had a similar expression across the table. They shared a look that was both relieved and highly amused.

"You have to take pictures!" Dick exclaimed while hugging Tim.

"I will," Tim promised. "Lots of them."

'Especially of you,' Tim thought as they left the kitchen and went to get ready for the party. 'Especially of you, Dick.'

Dick seemed to hear Tim's thought because he turned and grinned at Tim. "Do you have a spare camera I could borrow? I think we need some pictures of the man behind the lens for your newest photo album."

"And which one is that?" Tim asked though he was pretty sure he knew what Dick meant.

"The one for the two of us!" Dick laughed as if Tim had given him exactly the line he was waiting for.

+++++

"Rose!"

Lian's scream of delight echoed across the yard. Dick started laughing as Lian abandoned her efforts to get Damian and Colin to include her in their play to run full tilt across the lawn so that she could launch straight into Rose's arms. Rose laughed and caught her, hugging the little girl tight. Slade stood behind her, one hand on her back to brace Rose against the impact.

Dick snapped a picture and then laughed when he saw Tim take several quick shots from a different angle. It was kind of fun taking pictures of everyone, though Dick was pretty sure his camera was full of shots of Tim taking pictures of the party. Slade wandered towards them as Kory and Roy came over to say hi to Rose. He nodded warily to Bruce as he passed by, getting a wary nod in return. Obviously neither of them was terribly pleased by his presence at the picnic but Alfred looked satisfied and Rose was beaming so it was okay.

"Hey kid," Slade said and then frowned when Tim thoughtfully took his picture. "You mind?"

"It's the eye patch," Tim said while checking the back of the camera for the quality of his shot.

"It is sexy," Dick agreed and then laughed as Tim glared at him. "Hey, this place is full of former lovers. Might as well just accept it and move on."

"Move you on," Tim grumbled which made both Dick and Slade grin.

Slade shook his head in amusement at Tim's jealousy. When Dick looked back at Rose and Lian, they'd disappeared into the gathering of Titans new and old. Damian and Colin, no surprise, had disappeared into the maze of shrubbery at the west end of the lawn, probably to pretend that they were hunting criminals in Gotham or something.

"How's he doing?" Slade asked which prompted Dick to look back and then huff when he realized that Slade was talking to Tim. "Nightmares?"

"One," Tim said while thoughtfully framing a shot of Bruce carefully cooking burgers on the grill. "So not too bad, though that might be because I've missed them. I've slept better than normal lately."

"That's good," Slade said with a smirk at the implication that Dick had been making sure Tim slept better through tiring him out beforehand.

Slade tapped Tim's shoulder to distract him from his camera and then bent down to kiss Tim. Dick squawked. It looked like Tim was startled for a second and then kissed back with maybe half his normal force. After a moment Slade pulled back to grin at them both.

"I was curious what the fuss was," Slade said, licking his lips thoughtfully. "Not bad."

"Hold this," Tim growled at Dick as he thrust out his camera.

Dick barely caught the camera in time as Tim grabbed Slade by the ears and hauled him down for a kiss that went from zero to sixty in less than one second. Slade's one eye was open wide and then it drifted shut as his hands settled on Tim's hips as if he couldn't quite believe what he was getting. Dick stared and then growled and then tapped Tim's shoulder despite having both hands full of cameras.

In the end he tucked his little point and shoot camera in a pocket and took about six shots of Slade and Tim kissing like they were long-lost lovers. He managed to catch the moment when Tim let go and crowed at the stunned expression on Slade's face. Tim stepped back, nodded once and took his camera back from Dick.

"That's a proper kiss," Tim declared even though his cheeks were going red from everyone, absolutely everyone, staring at them.

Kon and Bart zipped over to hover and quiver, respectively, while staring at Tim and Slade. To Dick's amusement, Slade looked like he was stunned. Dick couldn't blame him. Tim's kisses were one of the most incredible things about him.

" _Dude,_ " Kon said in a tone that was almost awed if it hadn't been so scandalized, "you just kissed _Deathstroke!_ "

"No, he didn't," Bart said, grinning at Tim. "He almost sucked his tonsils out!"

"That was a challenge," Tim said as if it was only to be expected. "You know I can't resist a proper challenge."

Slade burst out laughing and threw his hands up in dismay, which was good enough cause for Dick to take another picture. That led to Dick getting tackled by Slade, rescued by Tim, Kon and Bart, and Slade getting rescued by Lian and Rose who actually made a pretty scary team. The confrontation quickly turned into a pitched water balloon battle (and when had Alfred filled all those water balloons anyway?) between Roy, Rose, Lian and Slade against Tim, Kon, Bart and Kory, with Damian and Colin showing up halfway through to sneak attack Lian. She led a charge that sent Damian and Colin running for the shore while crying foul.

Dick took pictures through it all, some with his little camera and some with Tim's much better and more complicated camera. He had no idea the difference between them but no way was he going to let this afternoon go unrecorded. Especially not given how wide Tim's grin was by the end of it.

"Oh," Tim sighed when he collapsed on the lawn next to Tim. "That was fun."

"Got pictures of it too," Dick said proudly.

He laughed as Tim snatched the cameras and started reviewing the shots Dick had taken. About half of them got deleted immediately because Dick had a finger or the strap in front of the lens but the rest stayed which prompted Dick to pull Tim into a somewhat soggy hug and some kissing that made him wish everyone would go away.

"I am not sure that this was the result that you were training for," Shiva said behind Dick's back.

Dick jumped so hard that Tim laughed at him. Shiva grinned at him and then raised an eyebrow when Slade came back up the hill to the beach with Lian riding one shoulder and Rose holding his arm because she was laughing too hard to walk straight without the help.

"Actually, this is exactly the goal I was going for," Tim said so smugly that Shiva raised an eyebrow at him. "I told you. All I had to do was survive long enough to accomplish my goal, which was to lure Dick in so we could get him away from Slade."

"And yet he is here," Shiva commented as if she was trying to figure out the relationships. She stared when Dick grinned at her.

"Well…" Dick said so cheesily that Tim groaned and let his chin drop down to his chest, "it's like this. Rose is Slade's daughter and she used to babysit Lian, who belongs to Roy who used to be one of the Titans. So, since the Titans were invited to the party and both Tim and I used to be Titans I guess Bruce and Alfred, who set all this up, decided that it would be good to invite Rose so that she could see Lian again. Slade would never let Rose come here without him, so of course he had to show up. And well, you know we were lovers for a year, so it made sense that he'd come to the party anyway to make sure that I was okay. Besides, Slade's never been one to resist a challenge like someone else you might know." Shiva snorted in laughter, hiding her grin behind one upraised hand. Tim turned beet red. "So of course he'd pull Bruce's pigtails by coming and I think he kind of wanted to make sure that Tim was okay, not that Slade would ever admit to that."

"And he wanted to kiss me to see whether or not I was really that good at it," Tim interjected and then laughed at Dick's huff at the interruption. "Sorry, I'll let you tell it."

"Please don't bother," Shiva said before Dick could continue. "Some things are best left…"

She trailed off as Roy came up from the beach with dripping wet Colin flung over one shoulder and a loudly cursing and very muddy Damian tucked under his other arm. Dick grinned and pulled Tim into his arms again.

"That is Damian al Ghul," Shiva said thoughtfully. "Is Talia here as well? Or is she yet to arrive?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Tim replied when Dick shrugged. "She and Bruce didn't exactly part… as friends."

"Pity," Shiva said with a disappointed sigh. "I haven't seen her in ages. I believe I will go say hello to her son."

Dick blinked and watched as Damian stopped being a swearing brat and suddenly became very respectful at the sight of Shiva descending on him. When he looked over at the grill, Bruce had a vaguely alarmed expression that matched Dick's inner sense of 'this is very not right and I'm so not going to figure out how to fix it'.

"Did she ever mention being friends with Talia?" Dick asked.

"Ah, no," Tim said with a vaguely alarmed expression. "She mentioned having a former lover who was a female assassin once, though. But that was about all she mentioned about romance. We spent all our time training."

He blinked and then moaned in dismay as Slade approached Shiva with that hint of cocky male looking to hook up with a pretty girl strut that he always got just before trying to get into someone's bed. Damian bristled, Colin stared at Slade and Shiva smirked at him while gently petting Damian's muddy hair. Whatever she said to Slade made him rock back on his heels. Damian and Colin's groans of disgust made Tim start laughing.

"Is there anyone here that we haven't done something sexual with other than Damian and Colin?" Tim murmured to Dick.

"Mmmm, well, unless you've done Rose," Dick said and then blinked when Tim went red. "Okay. That's a surprise. Um, Victor?"

"No, haven't done Victor, or Raven or Gar," Tim said, blatantly leaving Kory out and making Dick's head spin. "Though Kory doesn't really count. When a woman that strong kisses you and grabs you there you do what she wants. Which wasn't much in the grand scheme of things. And besides, no one rational would turn Kory down if she was interested in them."

"True. Well, I think Victor may be the only one on my side," Dick said with his own violent blush.

"Raven?" Tim asked in a horrified tone of voice. He stared at Dick as though he'd just defiled a church.

"Only once and it doesn't really count," Dick admitted. "Possession by evil beings doesn't count, right?"

"Gar?"

"Trust me, just don't go there," Dick sighed.

"I'm not," Tim replied. "So very not."

"Rose?" Dick asked.

"Similar to Raven, I suspect," Tim admitted. "And it wasn't so much me as it was being there while other things happened with um, other people. Kind of like a pollen incident here in Gotham, just… aliens and stuff. I don't count it and neither does she."

"And I thought we did some messed up things," Dick sighed. "Aliens made them do it orgies in the Tower, oh my."

Tim laughed and leaned close to kiss Dick once more. It was gentle and sensuous and Dick was really unhappy that the party looked to continue for another couple of hours. By the time they stopped some private time would have been very welcome.

"It was just sex," Tim murmured against Dick's ear. "I knew it. They knew it. None of us ever took it seriously, except Kon and Cassie. They're pretty serious about each other, or they were last time I checked. I always made sure people knew who my heart belonged to."

There was nothing Dick could say to that so he pulled Tim back in for more kisses that promised to consume his soul. The entire world seemed to disappear as they kissed. Dick had to wonder what had taken him so long to take the next step with Tim. This was wonderful, the best thing that had ever happened to him.

"You two need to take it indoors," Jason called from the entrance to the Manor.

Dick looked and then his arms were abruptly empty as Tim laughed and ran across the lawn to hug the blond girl with Jason. She laughed and hugged him back just as enthusiastically. It wasn't until they'd spun each other around a couple of times that Jason realized that she was Steph, one of Tim's normal girlfriends from school. What made Dick stare was that Jason was holding a baby wrapped in a blue blanket and had a little girl who looked to be less than two clinging to one of his legs while sucking her thumb.

"Steph!" Tim laughed as she did a good job of hugging the stuffing out of him. "I should have known that you were Jason's lover!"

"Aww, come on," Steph laughed as she brushed her hair out of her face. "You didn't figure it out? And you're supposed to be some sort of great detective."

"Someone wouldn't say a word about who he was with," Tim growled at Jason.

Dick headed over and passed Tim his camera before looking at the baby boy in Jason's arms. He was tiny, maybe a month old, and already looked so much like Jason when he was grumpy that there was no doubt who the daddy was.

"Gimme!" Dick said which made Jason laugh as he passed the baby over. "Awww, he's adorable. Who knew you'd be a great dad, Jay?"

"Everyone but him," Steph snorted. She scooped their daughter up, resting her on one hip. "Good to see you, Tim. Seriously. I missed you after I dropped out."

"You could have come back to school," Tim said. "Or asked for help."

Jason wrapped a highly proprietary arm around Steph's back even though he was grinning at the little bouncy bopping dance Dick was doing with the baby boy. "I had it. And there was… stuff going on at the time. Better you don't know about it. That's Adrian, by the way. This is Callie."

Lian squealed from across the lawn, shouting 'baby!' which brought half the guests at the party over to check Jason's little family out. Dick was quickly divested of his turn holding Adrian so he pulled Tim into his arms to cuddle instead. Unfortunately, that didn't last long because Tim pulled away to take pictures of everyone cooing over Adrian and Callie.

"He always did love his photography," Steph said with a happy smile. "You're good for him, you know that? Though just so you know… if you _ever_ run away from him again or hurt him I will hunt your ass down and get Jason's guys to beat you within an inch of your life. Got that?"

She stabbed a finger into Dick's chest and he nodded at her because Steph threatening was actually surprisingly terrifying. Once he nodded that he understood she smiled up at him and looped one arm through his.

"So have you found his ticklish spots yet?" Steph asked while Jason laughed in the background.

"Tim is ticklish?" Dick asked just loudly enough for Tim to hear him. He grinned as Tim's head whipped around and he glared at Steph. "Where? Where?"

"Don't you dare!" Tim snapped at Steph who laughed and hid behind Jason. "I take back everything nice I ever said about you!"

Dick laughed and snagged Tim's camera to take pictures of him and Steph and laughed some more. Their little battle only ended when Bruce called everyone over for burgers and hotdogs fresh from the grill. Tim was still grumbling when Dick took his hand but a quick kiss seemed to soothe his bad mood.

Pretty soon Slade was helping feed Adrian and comparing notes on good baby food with Jason while Steph talked weapons and surveillance with Babs, who had shown up sometime when Dick wasn't watching, and Shiva who seemed to find both Babs and Steph interesting. Rose had ended up snuggled with Roy, Lian on her lap as if all was right in the world. Bart zipped around like a red and gold whirlwind, making food disappear and cleaning up trash.

It was a complicated mess full of so many people that Dick had loved in so many ways. Tim nudged Dick with one elbow, looking at him curiously.

"Just glad that I'm home," Dick murmured before kissing some ketchup off of the corner of Tim's mouth. "Wouldn't change anything for the world."

The End


End file.
